Can you hear me now? (or, Harry Potter versus Dumbledore)
by PseudonymousEntity
Summary: Harry let Ginny die. Features; wand twirling, murderous godfathers, teenage dark lords, ridiculously complicated pureblood customs and an Undead Mafia. DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FANFICTION.
1. Delicious Shivers

**Can You Hear Me Now**

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Summary: When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted and it all went down hill from there.

Warnings: Angst. Annoyance. Indifference. Manipulation.

**AN(**2015.09.10**): **I had to rewrite the first chapter. I originally wrote it as a one shot summary of the beginning chapter for an idea I had, to see if anyone thought it was worth the trouble of writing it out. As it's my most popular story...the answer was obviously yes. Unfortunately the quality of the first chapter versus that of later chapters isn't remotely up to par. Thus I've gone back and fixed it so I'm not ashamed of it anymore. As a general rule I don't do sloppy anything and that includes my hobbies.

Enjoy the remixed chapter and the rest of the story whether this is your first time through or you're giving it another go.

**Ever Yours **

**-Pseudonymous**

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_Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time and turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach_

_Another clever word sets off an unsuspecting herd and as you step back into line a mob jump to their feet_

_Now dance fucker dance, man I never had a chance and no one even knew it was really only you_

_With a thousand lies and a good disguise, hit 'em right between the eyes, see 'em running for their lives_

_Nice work you did...you're gonna go far kid_

* * *

A dark haired boy waited patiently for a taller red-headed boy to turn and bolt down the hall. He pretend to jog after him, falling back bit by bit until the other boy was much farther ahead of him. He stopped, satisfied his companion wasn't aware he was missing. With a roll of brilliant green eyes the boy turned in a twirl of slightly too big robes to face the other direction. Now that he was alone he could do this properly. He really should have known, it was obviously looking back. His shoes darted around puddles of water onto the lighter in colour stones of the bathroom floor. Myrtle's bathroom.

"What are you doing here?"

The ghost floated forward from where she'd been levitating in the back of the room, transparent eyes looking him over with suspicion.

From what he knew of her she was quite sensitive and he imagined he hadn't been liked even when she was among the living. Prone to dramatics himself he couldn't fault her for that but he would rather die than make a spectacle of himself as she had done at the death day party. And spending your after life throwing fits and flooding washrooms just because no one likes you? Pathetic. You would think with all the years she had been a ghost she would have gotten something of a backbone at some point. Or at least the ability to handle her emotions better. So she was picked on, so what? He lived in a cupboard for ten years. No one saw him having temper tantrums.

Dark hair tumbled into his face as he looked down at the floor as if very shy. "I'm s-sorry," he whispered, "I just needed someone where to hide for a minute. The other kids...they've been so cruel this year..." It was true too. The angst filled sheeple of the castle turned on him quickly enough when it came out at the dueling club he could talk to snakes. The horror! Honestly, as if he would ever be so stupid as to use his gift he'd truly been the heir. He might play it down in class but he was reasonably certain he had never given anyone cause to think him so stupid. What would be the point of egging the snake on in front of so many witnesses? He knew from experience people often saw and believed what they wanted to see and believe. Thus it could be assumed, what with the strangeness of his survival and the events of the previous year, they had been waiting for him to do something to prove he was untrustworthy. And what did Dumbledore do? The man who supposedly believed him? Did he say a word in his favour to calm the student body? Of course not.

One had to wonder why.

"Oh! You poor dear. Who's picking on you? You're so little Harry they ought to be ashamed. At least I was always picked on people my own size."

He only stiffened when she mentioned his size. Why did everyone have to mention it?

"Everyone." He mumbled. "They all think I'm the one p-petrifying people. They won't leave me alone a-and they're saying the most a-awful _things._.." Harry was careful to keep his face down lest the ghost, who came closer to coo at him, see the grin on his face.

"That's just ridiculous. What, do they think you're part basilisk?" She teased.

Harry tilted his head to glance at her through his fringe, widening his eyes. "What do you mean, what's a basilisk?"

She grinned wickedly. "Oh it's positively monstrous. That is how I died you know, all those years ago."

"Is it truly?" He asked, pouring as much awe into his voice as he could manage while trying not to scoff at how easily she was manipulated. He might have felt at least a little guilt if she was more likable, as it was he found her tedious and annoying.

"Yes indeed. I was hiding in here much like you were trying to do after Olive Hornby was particularly nasty to me. I heard someone in here, a boy, I came out of my stall to tell them to get out so I could wallow in my embarrassment in peace when-" she gave a gasp, "I died."

"Just like that?"

She sighed dreamily. "Quite sudden I know. The very last thing I remember seeing was a pair of large yellow eyes just there." She turned and motioned toward the sinks.

Harry's eyes snapped over. The sinks. How utterly random and unlikely.

"The sinks?"

Myrtle floated closer and nodded at one. "This one. Do you see the little snake carving? Rather obvious now really."

Hiding plain sight. "Thank you! If I can find a way to prove I'm not responsible, if I can clear my name, then maybe they will all stop picking on me. Oh you're so _wonderful_, thank you you absolutely useful ghost." He beamed at her.

Myrtle blinked her eyes rapidly. "I, well You're welcome I suppose. Do be careful."

He nodded already heading for the sinks.

"If you should perish you're welcome to share my toilet." She added.

Harry looked over his shoulder and gave a nod. "I would be most delighted."

With a pleased shriek and a splash Myrtle disappeared within one of the toilets.

Harry let out a sigh. Finally he was alone again. His emerald eyes stared at the snake carving critically. A sign for Slytherin, obviously and probably an allusion to snake language. Well there was nothing for it.

"Open?" He tried, feeling stupid.

To his amazement and slight disappointment the sink lowered a foot or so into the floor then pushed back into the wall until all that was left was a large whole that went a very long way down. He had expected to have to try a bit harder for the password. Really though there couldn't be all that many parselmouths out there he supposed so he guess he could see why Slytherin allowed himself to be complacent in that respect. He would have to try it out o the Slytherin common room entrance when he had the chance. Not seeing an alternative Harry closed his eyes, berated himself for being a Gryffindor and took a very literal leap of faith. That the faith was in Salazar Slytherin of people and thus suspect was something he decided not to think about. After all he was falling through the air in absolute darkness, there were other things to worry about.

After a surprising amount of time he slid through the end of the pipe and landed with a skid along a grimy floor. Harry lifted his head and glanced about. Still dark for the most part though he could see torches on the walls just ahead. Presumably that was the way to go. He rose to his feet and tossed of his robes and kicked them away in disgust. After he took care of all of this, provided he manged not to die, he would go about cleaning this place up. After all there was no reason to let a super cool top secret hiding place go to waste was there?

The tunnel went on and on with several winding turns thrown in. He had to be pretty far underneath the school. In fact, he thought he may not even be within the school grounds at this point. As he walked around yet another wide turn he met a large wall completely closing off the path. He examined the newest carvings with great interest. It showed two snakes entwined with eyes the colour of his own. He liked them immediately. With a grin he walked up to the wall and said clearly, "Open."

The wall split down the middle, each side disappearing into the sides of the tunnel. Beyond lay the beginning of an enormous inner chamber. He could make out tall carved pillars rising to meet a ceiling who's end he could not make out. Odd green light flickered throughout the room, glistening off the damp walls and reflecting in pools of water collected in various dips in the stone floor. He couldn't help but think this was make an awesome secret base. Something all his own he wouldn't have to share with anyone and no one would be able to take it away from him. How could they? He was the only one who could even get in. A place all his own.

Grinning smiling widely Harry walked into the chamber, listening to the dull echoes his shoes made. It wasn't until he was much farther in that he noticed it, a bit of bright red standing out against the greens and grays of the room. There on the floor just at the base of the largest statue he'd ever seen lay Ron's sister. "Ginny."

She didn't move. Cautiously he made his way toward her, wand out. Upon reaching her he knelt down and set his wand aside to shake her gently.

"Miss Weasley?" He whispered. She could have been asleep if not for her unnatural stillness, even the rising and falling of her chest so slight he almost believed she were dead.

"She won't wake," said a voice as soft as his own.

He turned immediately to see a taller, older boy with dark hair leaning against a pillar. There was something very strange about this boy. The outline of his body was...blurry. He wondered if, like Nearly headless Nick, this boy was nearly a ghost but not quite.

"Tom?"

The boy gave a nod but said nothing.

"Are you a ghost?" He asked, giving up on tact. There was no polite way to ask someone if they ought to be passed on was there? He couldn't think of a way at least and honestly the curiosity was _killing_ him.

"Not quite," Riddle correctly, still speaking softly, "I've been preserved in that diary for some time now. Not quite alive and not quite not alive either, wandering about a memory of Hogwarts. Alone."

Harry glanced down. Just a few feet from Ginny lay the diary he found in Myrtle's bathroom.

"As fascinating as all of this is I need to get her out of here, _quickly._ I'm not immune to the basilisk. At least I don't think I am, snake speaking abilities aside, and I don't much fancy risking it." He reached out for his wand- to find it gone. He blinked.

"Did you see where my wand went-" He cut off as he realized the wand twirling between Riddle's fingers was his own.

"Oh." Said Harry.

Riddle's lips turned up at the corners.

"Alright look. The thing is, I really have to get her out of here before the snake comes back so if you don't mind-"

"The basilisk won't come until it's called. Fear not." Easy for him to say, he wasn't the one who had to worry about dying.

"I'd like to have my wand and leave just the same Tom."

Riddle's smile grew. He was amused Harry realized. "You won't be needing it." Said Riddle, as if puzzled.

Harry raised a brow.

"I've been waiting for this. To see you Harry. To speak with you. I've been ever so patient listening to the girl whine on and on about petty frivolous things. Then she finally mentioned something worth learning about. You Harry. I encouraged her and she poured her heart and soul out to me. Enough for me to pour bits of my own back into her. With her help I was able to open the chamber, to leave my messages. She did eventually become suspicious. She tossed the diary away and who should come upon it but you. The very person I was so anxious to meet."

"What is so interesting about me?"

It was Riddle's turn to raise a brow. "You are fascinating Harry. I just had to learn more about you, meet you if I could. A surprising distraction from my purpose. I left a bit of myself behind to lead another in my footsteps, in Slythern's noble work."

"No one's died or anything you know." Harry pointed out. "I don't know if that was your intention or not but they've only been petrified and the Mandrake Draught is almost finished. Ginny wasn't the best minion it seems."

"Ah but haven't I told you? Haven't you guessed? For many months now I've had a new target."

Harry swallowed. Suddenly feeling as nervous as he probably should have been from the start walking into this situation.

"Me?"

Another nod. "I was most displeased when the diary was opened and it was Ginny who had me once more, She stole me from you, terrified you would learn all of her secrets. But I knew how clever you were Harry, how insatiably curious. I knew if I left the right clues you would figure it out. She told me the school turned on you, convinced you were the Heir. You speak the serpent's tongue. You were worthy of sharing the secret. So I brought her down here. She did try to struggle and refused to speak with me. Very boring in the end. Of course there isn't much life left in her now. That's probably why." He tilted his head. "I knew you would do it. You figured it out and you came and I have questions for you Harry."

Questions was. Conversation was good. Anything not killing him was good frankly.

"Questions?" He flicked his eyes about for any other exit possibilities just in case. He was a fast runner if need be but he didn't think he could out run a basilisk. Best to keep all possibilities in mind though.

Riddle's gaze roamed over him hungrily. "How did you, such a small, unremarkable thing at first glance, manage to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar when Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?" His eyes flashed red.

Shivering, Harry met his predatory gaze straight on. "Why do you care?" He was stalling. He didn't know the answer.

Riddle pulled Harry's wand through the air tracing out the words TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. With a wave the letters rearranged to I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. The older boy turned back to him with his chin raised as if to say, 'what do you think about that then'. Harry knew he ought to be focusing more on who this was but he was too busy focusing on _who this was_. He should be afraid, because this was Lord Voldmort's teenage self. Instead his curiosity rose up within him with a vengeance because this was a teenage Dark Lord. Who knew what he could learn from him? Harry knew _exactly_ what he wanted to learn first.

"Okay, that's an amazing anagram and everything but can you teach me _that_?"

The older teen furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry?"

Harry pointed, standing from his spot by Ginny and walking toward him throwing caution to the wind in the face of satisfying his curiosity. "That thing you're doing with my wand, twirling it like a drummer in a rock band. That's pretty cool."

"Is it?" Riddle asked, bemused. He studied his hand twirling abilities as though he were trying to see it from the other boy's perspective. "I always thought it was rather flippant and a touch intimidating."

"Oh it _is_." Harry assured him. "Can you show me please? I'd like to use that."

Tom Riddle's eyes darkened and he smiled. It was more of a demonic baring of perfect teeth and a flash of darkly glinting eyes than any sort of smile Harry had become accustomed to prior to this...facial expression. He couldn't tell if the shivers he got from it were in awe of Riddle's blatant crazy, or his body was trying to spontaneously-combust since his fight or flight response refused to kick in and move his feet, and himself by association, as far from the cunning teen as it was possible to be. Like France. Or Connecticut.

Riddle motioned at Ginny. "Take the girl first, then come back. We'll have a chat. Quickly, they'll be suspicious if you're gone too long."

"Right." Harry nodded, turned and walked over to the first year girl. He nudged her with his shoe. Still no movement, or signs of life really. "Is she, er, dead? Or anything?"

"No. Not yet."

"Oh." He'd thought she might have died by now. They _had_ to have been talking for over half an hour.

"You should probably get her back before she dies."

Green eyes widened. "Oh! You're right. One minute Riddle."

"Tom." He corrected.

"Tom then." Harry agreed, focusing on other things. The older teen had already said she was dying hadn't he? If he 'rescued' her before she died he would still get some hero points, After all it wasn't his fault if they didn't get her looked at quickly enough to help her. As he levitated her and began his trek out of the chamber he noted Ton looking at him calculatingly.

"Yes?" His steps faltered, uneasy. He really didn't like being stared at.

"Shouldn't you care more about..." He waved in Ginny's general direction.

"Yeah but I'm tired."

An elegant brow rose. "Tired?"

Harry gave a long suffering sigh and figured a sixteen year old reincarnation of Lord Voldemort wasn't about to go running off to Dumbledore if he explained. "_Yes,_ I haven't had coffee in days and honestly all the teenage angst swarming around me combined with all the nasty glares I've been getting recently, thanks for that, have kind of sapped my motivation for this hero business. Don't get me wrong this whole Boy-Who-Lived-Thing has its perks but none of them seem to be worth it. Also, it's tiring to play a part all of the time."

"...I see."

He waved over his shoulder at the teen Dark Lord and left. Now, there was a number of things he _could_ do. He _could_ tell Dumbledore everything, play hero, maybe save the girl._ Or._ Or he could keep it to himself and Dumbledore could go choke on a lemon drop. Honestly he was favoring the latter. Perhaps if the headmaster had done anything at all to fix the problems that happened within his school so Harry didn't have to get involved, or if he kept kids from trying to kill him in the halls because they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin he might have done the golden boy routine. But the headmaster hadn't and Harry didn't much want to any way. He liked Tom, first of all. Even more so now they could talk in person. He was fun in a rickety roller coaster exciting-but-you-might-die kind of way. Harry also liked the Chamber and fancied it a good hideout when he wanted to be alone. Which a lot of the time. There was only so much loudness and tomfoolery and teasing and whining and other _ridiculousness_ he could take before he started considering the balcony of the Astronomy Tower a good place to sit and think.

There wasn't technically anything _wrong_ with their expectations of him. If he had been who they thought he was. The problem was that he really, really wasn't. Not even a little. He tried to be oh yes, he tried his best but Harry had had more than enough pretending. He didn't owe this world anything, they'd left him to rot at the Dursely's hadn't they? He asked Dumbledore if he could stay at the school for the summer and he refused, the man even had the audacity to claim Harry was exaggerating about his home life.

The school turned on him quick enough this year. He'd secretly enjoyed their fear if he was being honest, it'd been funny to see them scurry out of his way. Ignoring the fact he was the smallest student in the school in every way a person could be small. Not very threatening really. Some of the taints however and the hexing in the halls and getting tripped down the stairs was getting old. Fast. No, he decided, he'd keep this to himself. He'd see what happened.

They would still be thankful for him rescuing Ginny, even if she did die soon, and he... Oh here we go.

Harry quickly woke up the red headed girl with an enervate, he couldn't remember it for the life of him down in the chamber but that all worked out for the best, and explained that he had rescued her from the Chamber. When she asked about Tom and a diary he denied any knowledge of it, going wide eyed and apparently frightened at the very thought. Thank you Quirrelmort who knew you'd ever be useful?

She bought it. She bought it_ even_ though she'd stolen the Diary from him herself. Of course she was traumatized he supposed but it was disgusting that it didn't occur to her to think for herself. Totally not Harry's fault. He wasn't the one who allowed a diary to take over his mind. Honestly it was like the chit had no will power. _He_ resisted the Dark Lord at age eleven when he offered him his parents for Merlin's sake and he'd gone into the situation with almost no experience in the magical world. This was a girl who grew up knowing better than to trust magical talking objects found randomly in their stuff. Her father worked for the freaking Ministry correcting inanimate objects charmed to do things they shouldn't with the purpose of hurting the new owner.

After Ginny explained everything that had happened since she found the diary in her cauldron, and he couldn't believe she was stupid enough to admit it all to someone she didn't even really know, he convinced her to pretend that she had nothing to do with it. Neither of them would mention the diary. Someone else was responsible for the whole situation and they didn't know who. They wouldn't mention Tom. She quickly agreed when he pointed out if she confessed the truth they would throw her into Azakaban and she'd never see her parents again. He didn't know if any of that were true but her face had gone even paler and she'd trembled at the idea, frightened and ashamed of her actions. After rehearsing the story with the slightest of differences in them they made their way up the spiral staircase and into the headmaster's office. He didn't think it would matter much, as Tom hinted she'd die soon, and she really did look bad, so very pale and tired and almost faded but he wanted to cover all of his bases.

After all once _she_ died no one else would know the truth. No one but Tom and Harry doubted he'd be inclined to share anytime soon.

Irritatingly it was several hours before he could sneak away to the Chamber. He told them he needed to go take a nap after killing the Basilisk, which he hadn't but he was hoping he could talk Tom into not trying to kill any more people for a bit. At least not at the school, Harry would have to rethink their cease-fire if Tom got Hogwarts closed and Harry had to be with the Dursleys full time.

Later that evening the second year Gryffindor stared at the boy in front of him, slightly out of breath from dodging impromptu curses when Tom seemed to decide he did in fact want to kill him only to abruptly change his mind. Unstable bastard. If anyone had told him yesterday that today he would be sitting, crossed legged, in the chamber of secrets, bantering with Mini-Lord-Voldemort he'd have directed them to Madam Pomphrey immediately. Yet here he was getting to know the teenage version of the man who tried to kill him. It was mostly him sitting there and listening really and once in a while giving his opinion as required. Harry imagined it must have something to do with Tom's lack of conversation partners, what with being a life sapping inanimate object and all. The older boy's emotions changed quickly, angry one moment, curious the next and irritated the moment after. His complimenting and insulting skills experiencing flows of usage accordingly.

"It's frightening really." Harry murmured finally.

Tom stopped his ranting about the state of the educational system to stare at him blankly. "What is?"

He pointed at the other boy's head. "How many people you've got in there."

"It's maddening." Tom deadpanned.

He repressed a smirk. "I'm quite sure it is."

Tom watched him for a moment, that hungry gleam returning to his eyes paired this time with uncertainty,

"Why aren't you and I...associates?"

Harry nearly laughed at the blatant avoidance of the term 'friends'.

"You tried to kill me."

"Is _that_ all? All this pent up anger isn't good for the soul Harry. You need to learn to let things go." Said Tom, brushing off his slacks primly. Harry didn't know why he bothered, they'd been sitting on the floor for a while now and the sort of stuff lying about here wouldn't come off so easily.

"Twice." He corrected, narrowing his eyes at the older boy.

Tom gave an odd nod with a toothy smile creeping over his face. Tom smiling was never good for anybody but t the shivers were delicious. Maybe Harry was an adrenaline junkie come to think of it.

"I didn't end up killing you the first time did I? And the second time I'd run out of things to talk about and needed something to fill the gap in conversation. I don't thionk I would have actually killed because than I wouldn't have anyone to talk to at all."

"What."

"Bored. I was bored." Tom said, as if discussing the weather rather than Harry's life.

"...I hate you."

"I'm wounded. Truly."

The raven haired Griffindor huffed and crossed his arms.

"I don't suppose it'd be all that horrible though." said Tom, avoiding eye contact. "Being your...associate...I mean. I've never had any sort of companion before, aside from snakes of course. I could always kill you if I get tired of you I suppose."

Harry beamed. "That sounds fair." Because really, who could get tired of him? He was awesome.


	2. I have a what?

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_Calm the ache, Stop the shakes,_

_You clear my mind_

_You're my escape f__rom this messed up place_

* * *

Ron's sister died the next day.

In the aftermath of a student_ dying_ and the arrival of aurors no one paid much attention to small a Gryffindor with inky hair and sharp eyes.

They really should have.

Because in these moments, before he perfected his mask, it would have been obvious to those who bothered to look. Something had changed. They may not have been able to put their finger on it straight-a-way but something was not_ right_. Perhaps his smile was a bit off or his new habit of twirling his wand was just a tad un-nerving. Maybe it would have been the way he stared off into the distance, seeing things no one else could see, deep in thought or the frantic movement of quill across parchment while he sat alone in the corner, a pile of books above his year next to him. But no one noticed and he certainly didn't bring it up.

It was more evident at the end of the year when the students boarded the train and prepared to go home for the summer. Neville would be the first to notice, to Harry's surprise. The child didn't say anything, only studied Harry and otherwise kept his opinions to himself. This suited Harry fine. Because he didn't feel like pasting a friendly smile on his face or laughing at inane jokes or worshiping Dumbledore's vanquishing of the Heir. The last one because it was untrue, and the first two because he didn't feel like trying that hard anymore. So, instead of playing exploding snap or listening to Hermione lecture about summer homework, he opened the books Tom recommended to him and he let the rest of the world fade away.

He was good at that. A bit out of practice now but he'd spent the majority of his life fading out the rest of the world and focusing on the present with tunnel vision, hoping if he pretended it all away it would vanish to please him. He did that now. Pages turning quickly, making notes, nodding when he sensed a lull in the conversation. The entire train ride he didn't speak a single word. Again, only Neville noticed.

Harry said his required goodbyes to his 'friends' and didn't bother to hope for a quick rescue from his destination.

Hell. Or number 4 Privet Drive.

Whichever.

He sat in the back of the car and carefully filtered out his Uncle's threats, his only interest in the books currently shrunk in his pockets. Tom had made sure he knew to do that when he learned Harry would spend the summer with muggles. An odd sort of look would come into his dark blue eyes and in one of the mood swings Harry was coming to expect from him he'd cheerfully written down a number of spells to help him out, some of them time released and others easy to master without a wand if put in the practice. He was asked, told, to write to Tom of his progress with the books, given an awkward pat on the head and that was that.

Harry had finally found someone worse at giving comfort than himself. Fitting, really.

Mechanically, he removed his things from the car and stored them in his old cupboard, he knew better than to ask to keep them out. He did, however, have the foresight to stuff his wand into his pocket. If he didn't bring it up and no one saw it his uncle wouldn't think to ask. That was fine with him. His wand was more important than his school books anyway. The petite boy nodded to his uncle, at whatever it was the nasty man snarled his way, and made his way to his room. Several locks clicked into place as soon as the door was shut. He didn't even flinch. He didn't have time to focus on his prison or his relatives or whether or not any house elves would steal his mail this summer. Harry had to memorize his books and practice his wandless spells and get ready.

With this attitude he tackled his summer unlike any other before it. He didn't talk back to his relatives, in fact he didn't talk at all. If anything they seemed pleased by this. Harry did his chores quickly, ate the food given him without complaint, he even whistled while tending the garden. This made his Aunt nervous. He made sure to do it often.

And then there were conversation with Tom. Whenever anything got to be too much talking with Tom made it better. He hardly noticed when stayed up talking to him and not sleeping. Who needed sleep?

Two new diaries were acquired before he left for the summer and Tom charmed them accordingly. They look like replicas of the original, however they said the name of the person you were sending the message to. As such, Harry's said Tom Riddle and vice versa. What was written in one showed up in the other. They never had much rhyme or reason to their conversations, they were mostly spontaneous, brought on by some question or thought one of them had and presented to the other. Some of the things they talked about got Harry rethinking his place in the wizarding world. Once he asked how Tom found it so easy not to care what the world would think of his actions.

**I find it more agreeable to live my life in accordance to my personal values, do as I must to get where I need to be, speak my truths in the face of adversity and never fear if my way of living my life offends the delicate sensibilities of those unable to follow my example.**

_What would you do if you didn't have the power to make that choice?_

**I'd take it.**

Harry rolled his eyes. Well that was easier said than done, wasn't it? Then again perhaps he should keep in mind whom he was talking to.

Still, it stayed in his mind for the next week. He turned it about in his mind and considered it from all angles. Why didn't he have power? He wasn't allowed to use magic. Why wasn't he allowed to use magic? He was underage. Why else? He lived with muggles.

He followed that train of thought for a bit. Why did he live with muggles? Ones who hated magic no less. He was really, pretty sure they would make that clear to any wizard who dared step into their home so he didn't know how anyone could have thought this was a good idea. And what was the deal with that? Did no one check on muggle raised wizards like him? And if they did, did they think as long as he was alive enough to move about then all was well? Because he really could have done without the tens years of life under the stairs if anyone cared.

Tom had opinions on all of these things of course but Harry wasn't ready to deal with most of them. Tom was harsh and blunt when it came to his opinion of muggles. Harry had, of course, defended muggles in general at first. He hadn't know what to say when Tom asked him how many decent ones he knew. When Harry pointed out some wizards, like the Malfoys, were horrible Tom asked him if he thought Draco lived in a cupboard under the stairs. He then pointed out that if Harry had been adopted by the Malfoys after his parents death he'd have been treated the same as Draco. Wizards were very fond of magical children, and as he was a first generation pureblood and the sole heir to the an old line, there would have been lots of motivation to keep him well and content.

It took him two days to get over that piece of information.

He tended the roses, washed the car, whistled loudly to make his aunt trip walking into the house but none of it was enough to make a burning question in the back of his mind go away. He tried to cover it up, he tried to pretend it away. He tried to act like it didn't bother him, it didn't matter, it was over and done anyway.

Then a mass murderer was in the news. An hour later Tom was writing in the diary.

**Why didn't you tell me your Godfather was still living?**

_My Godfather? I have a Godfather?_

**Sirius Black.**


	3. Flirting with Genius

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_I get kind of Dark_

_Let it go too far_

_...you know me better than I know myself_

* * *

Apparently everyone and their least favorite second cousin by marriage knew that Sirius black was single-handedly responsible for the deaths of the Potters, murders of muggles and his own friend Peter Pettigrew of which he left not but a finger. Harry found that article particularly...vivid in that regard. The amount of people who'd employed their cameras and dict-a-quills in the quest of a detailed account of the whole thing was disturbing as Sirius black was still there in several pictures, or so he heard from Tom who actually had access to such things, and was laughing quite madly in every one. Tom reckoned they were counting on the presence of aurors and the excellent staff at St Mungos to piece them back together if the need arised. After all in the journalistic world this was one of those opportunity of a lifetimes you hear about but are never around to experience yourself.

It had been a nearly literal blood bath that almost overshadowed the carnage they were there for in its ferocity, as each reporter did his or her best to ensure they got their questions answered first by as many people as possible with pictures to match before anyone else- and they were not above bribery, manipulation, violence or good old-fashioned sabotage to make sure of it. Mostly Slytherins and Ravenclaws went into journalism which actually explained everything from what he knew of them from both his own experiences and Tom's from his time. He was quite glad Gryffindors were typically above careers involving patience and subtly as he could easily imagine the scene had Lions made up the journalists and in his imagination not one of them came out in the condition they went in.

What all of this amounted to was that the lot of Wizarding Society, the Purebloods more than any others, were well aware of the danger Sirius Black now presented to him specifically and none of them had seen fit to send him a short letter to inquire about his health or confirm his knowledge that straying into darkened alleys would be more of a bad idea than usual. He was a bit miffed by this to be honest. He hadn't expected Ron to send him a letter as he was in mourning with his entire family who'd gone to enact some burial ritual involving the Oracle over in Europe, their two older sons coming along. He could easily understand that. But what excuse did Dumbledore plan to employ when Harry eventually found out? They didn't honestly think he was so dull as to not connect the mention of Black in the muggle world and then again in The Prophet when he returned from the summer?

All of this brought up questions for his plans with Tom, because while he had gained this ally on a whim, he certainly had plans. They'd brewed in the back of his mind, stuffed in there with all of his other issues surrounding the wizarding world and now he finally saw the means to make use of them. Tom, of course, glinted his steely eyes when Harry mentioned he had plans but said nothing on the topic. He was a lot more _wait and see _than Harry would have imagined from his counter part. ...then again Voldemort had the entire year where he could have killed him in a deserted corridor, transfigured him into a stone, put a stasis spell on him and then dropped him in The Forbidden Forrest. Easy enough. In fact the Dark Lord made only one real attempt on his life and then left him alone. Even when they met in the mirror room his first reaction was to keep him out-of-the-way, then to lure him to the dark side. Curiosity was prevalent in both really. In his defense that was the second time he'd killed anyone and the first time he'd been old enough to register it and he'd been understandably unsure how to handle it and therefore the memories of the time were locked away along with the emotions attached.

A balanced psyche was for_ wimps._

At any rate, they now had to decide whether this Sirius Black was friend or foe. According to rumour he was Voldemort's right-hand and also had no loyalty, like at all. However, according to rumour Harry was raised like a king in a mansion with servants and private tutors. Those people were cute.

Unfortunately they had very_ little_ in the way of fact regarding the situation other than supposed eyewitness accounts, the very real deaths of muggles, and his current residence in Azkaban Prison. Tom took this moment to point out that none of these things confirmed much of anything other than the fact the Wizarding world found him in the middle of a bunch of bodies were suspicious enough of him in general prior to this to believe it was something he might do, and decided to throw him in prison immediately afterward.

There was no physical proof at all and the pensive memories of the event were locked in the Auror's Vault by order of several ministry officials, Cornelius Fudge who they did know was an auror at the time and had been at the scene not to mention was now the Minister For Magic and surprise, Albus Dumbldore.

Holy Merlin did this man of his fingers stuck into candy jars all over the place, it was ridiculous.

And unsettling.

Harry knew he really needed more information on Black than rumours and the Daily Prophet, with this in mind, and knowing that Diagon Alley was really the only place he knew how to get to, he stole his Aunt's muggle straightening solution and one of her black blouses, washed up as clean as he could get and decided to forgo his glasses. These together made him nearly unrecognizable, especially with is scar covered, glasses gone and the lack of Potter hair. Even classmates might have to look close to be sure. The shirt was a bit feminine with black lace along the cuffs and the collar, which Tom mocked him for, but Harry liked the feel of the silk and the idea of wrecking his Aunt's clothing, so he didn't mind. Tom's snickering was something he could live without, however.

Some shoe polished rubbed over his sneakers and he looked halfway decent.

Harry felt free to write in his diary as much as he liked in the alley, which was really a step up from the muggle world where stuff like inanimate objects that do things they normally oughtn't raises eyebrows. Here he was just someone's son who might be particularly studious, as he visited bookstores primarily, and aside from glances trying to gauge his bloodline it was far from the circus he was getting used to as Harry Potter. With every year his appearance was becoming more well known, spotted more easily, the situation with Lockhart last year only made it worse with his face all over the paper. And of course it was there in the articles talking about Black this year. Because everyone knew who he was in reference to Harry and if figured they thought a photo of a confused and uncomfortable Harry beside a picture of a quite mad Black would spice the articles up.

He was really beginning to _hate_ journalism.

It was as he strolled through a book store searching for information on the black family that he and Tom came up with an interesting course of action. Tom by accident through sarcasm, Harry by a stroke of Slytherin genius.

**What we need to do is get you, myself and Black somewhere together so we can feel him out. He shouldn't see me at first of course, let him see you in a vulnerable situation and see if he takes advantage. Does he attempt to seek revenge for my older self or does he beg your forgiveness to ease his guilt? If we can confirm his loyalty to one of us we may be able to sway this, after all my olderself is supposedly vanquished, we can simply tell him I underwent a ritual to restore my body and I took it a bit farther than necessary to help hide my identity until I am once again strong enough to reclaim my throne as Dark Lord. There isn't anyone to tell him any different.**

_Alright but I'm not walking outside at three am and calling out for the psycho, Tom. _

**You could ask an old 'friend' of his to give him directions to your home. Maybe he'll rush to get their first so his 'friends' don't kill you before he can. We could stun him, tie him up and talk with him.**

_No._

**You could send him an owl-**

_Stop helping. _

Harry felt a wave of amusement that wasn't his own and he scowled. This had been happening more and more since Tom's official arrival in a body of his own and as neither of them had any experience with something like this before, they had no way of knowing if this was normal. Harry turned and halted in his steps. Walking through the doorway was none other than Draco Malfoy. Normally this was cause for cheering because it meant he got to argue or duel with someone who had more than half a brain cell and didn't get offended if Harry was smarter than them. The blonde would only go research better spells. This was not the reason he stopped and stared, though the increasing discomfort bleeding through the Slytherin's mask was delicious, it was because lightning struck and he had an idea.

_Actually, you're brilliant._

**Of course I am. But you'll have to be more specific.**

Harry looked up from the diary, ignoring Tom for a moment.

"Morning_ Draco_." He sent a beaming smile at the other boy who, to Harry's unforeseen streak of inner sadism's delight, appeared to be growing increasingly unnerved.

"Good morning...Harry..." Draco responded, slowly with a slight questioning sound at the end. Whether he was questioning his permission to use his first name or Harry's sanity was not clear.

Then Harry realized he didn't look like himself. He nodded at the blonde.

"Yup it's me! Come on I need your help with something.'

He didn't give the boy a chance to respond, only grabbed his hand and took off back to the corner of the store he'd walked out of, his pile of books there next to a low stool. He missed the startled expression and flush of pink on the Slytherin's cheeks entirely.

**I fail to see how snogging Malfoy is going to help us.**

_I'll send him an invitation._

**Who? _Black?_ Harry I wasn't being serious, that is in fact a very bad idea. Even more so to be asking the son of a Death Eater for a favor-**

_I'm going to have a birthday party._

**...You're what?**

Harry snapped the diary shut and pushed the bemused Slytherin on to the stool, sent him his most charming smile, cocked his head slightly, and looked up through his lashes. He'd only started using this recently with Tom's instruction but it worked well so far and apparently was good on rivals as well.

"You know my birthday is coming up soon, right Draco?"

He had no idea why Tom began laughing through their connection or why the boy in front of him gulped, eyes wide like the proverbial deer in headlights.


	4. Idiot Gryffindors

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_Wanna see, who you are_

_Every inch, every scar_

_...the drama you are drinking_

_and the dark thoughts you are thinking_

* * *

Draco Malfoy stifled in yawn, which Malfoys did not do in public, and searched for something to entertain him. His father Lord Malfoy was still in a session of the Wizengamot and while Draco had attended as an observer before and part of his heirship training today he just couldn't find it in him to sit through it. A quick instruction to neither shame the family nor killed, in order of importance obviously, was thrown in his direction and he'd been on his own. The novelty wore off after an hour. He mused that if he'd come here in mid afternoon when the purebloods did the walks it may have been more interesting but as it was he had yet to spy a suitable companion his own age. Holding in another yawn, Merlin he needed to stop by the apothecary and fetch a Pepper Up, silver eyes caught sight of a new book store to the left in one of the off alleys. He gave a mental shrug, since Malfoys didn't use such low-class body language, turned down the alley and ducked inside.

Draco slowed his steps when he came face to face with a small, doll-like boy who was blatantly staring at him. Staring wasn't anything new to Draco, he was stared at for lots of things. He was stared at for being the Heir to his father the current Lord of his family, he was stared at for being rich, for his looks, any number of things really. This was different. This boy in front of him had a look of unholy glee on his face that he couldn't imagine meant good things for him. He swallowed, keeping his composure the best he could and watched the boy flip open a small journal of some kind, scritch something in it and snap it shut again.

The boy looked up, halting Draco's inspection of the other boys clothing, which appeared to have been chosen for the sole purpose of making the boy as doll-like and fragile looking as possible. That's was very manipulative. He approved.

"Morning Draco." He sent a beaming smile at Draco, eyes closing part way.

That voice. He knew that voice. For a moment Draco was speechless and unnerved and confused. How could this possible be..?

"Good morning...Harry..." Draco replied, slowly, eyes flickering over the boy.

"Yup it's me! Come on I need your help with something.'

Merlin it really was Potter! He didn't get much of a chance to come to terms with that before he felt a small hand in his and he was being pulled back into a darkened corner of the store. Draco cursed when he felt himself blushing. This was Potter damn it, he shouldn't be blushing...even if the pretty git was dragging him to a corner and pushing him down...ohdearsweetmerlin. Emerald green eyes beneath long lashes stared up at him beseechingly and Draco had to cross his legs and clear his throat awkwardly. That smile was sweet and dark and he couldn't tell if Harry was flirting with him or planning to kill him. Either way brought up a number of uncomfortable questions he was a bit young and unprepared to deal with.

"You know my birthday is coming up soon, right Draco?"

Draco choked on his spit.

"Er...is it? I mean yes I know, er, everyone knows..."

A low laugh.

"Yes I guess the do don't they? And you know turning thirteen is a big deal, of course you do you just had your big party didn't you?"

Draco blinked. What were they talking about?

"Yes I did, it was quite the affair though Nott's family just had to have his two days _before_ mine, it was a bit of a scandal." _Hang on._

"Your thirteenth is coming up...you _are_ the Potter heir aren't you?"

Another blinding smile.

"Got it in one! So, since I'm live in the muggle world when I'm not at school, did you know?, I obviously can't have my party with them so I need a proper person in the wizarding world to help me because I honestly have no idea what I'm doing."

Draco sat up straighter, falling into his mask, heart rate settling now he knew he was neither being solicited nor murdered.

"Oh, and so you came straight to the best did you?" He asked, puffing up a bit in spite of himself.

"Of course! Who else would I ask? Ron? Of course he does come from a pureblood family though not as grand as yours..."

Draco knew he was being flattered and buttered up but he couldn't help being a bit offended that Weasley of all people had been considered before him.

"The Weasel!? Don't be ridiculous he wouldn't know a thing about it. You said you live with muggles? Have you gotten your inheritance test finished and ready yet? Do you have a sponsor? _Why _do you live with muggles?"

"My what test?"

The Slytherin pulled out a pocket watch, cursed, stuffed it back, heaved a long-suffering sigh and began pulling the dark-haired boy along behind him, through the store and out into the Alley.

"To Gringotts!"

Harry raised a brow at him and opened his mouth.

"Hush Harry, we need to hurry if we're gonna get this done in time. I don't know why on earth you didn't come to me sooner. Waiting until the last minute, honestly! Bloody idiot _Griffindors."_

Rather than be offended, as he expected the other boy to be, he was surprised to realize Harry was _amused__._ He only gave a half shrug and allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd, the blonde muttering insults and asking questions he didn't wait for the answers to, the entire way.


	5. Pureblood feng Shui

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_I like you more and more the less that you breathe_

_I've come undone, I think I'll kill everyone_

_My, what have I done?_

_Fuck it let's kill everyone_

* * *

Draco dragged him up the stairs, into Gringotts, down the first main hall and down another before he stopped at a tall black desk. With subtle use of body language and words that may or may not have been either insulting or complimentary depending on how you chose to interpret them he quickly secured them an appointment and Harry was whisked down yet more halls and through doors and down stairs and he wondered if Draco realized they were technically holding hands. Not that there was anything wrong with that sort of thing, but it did earn Harry amused looks from the various goblins they passed and his wrist was beginning to hurt from being tugged so much. He hated to bring up his height, he hated his height but he was _a lot smaller _than Draco dammit and he needed to remember with his _giant steps_ that Harry had to practically run to keep up.

They turned into a door on the left, passed goblin guards wearing a creative assortment of unfriendly expressions and pointy objects Harry _very much_ would have liked to play with, and into an office that might actually have been a torture chamber at one point. Draco snapped instructions on Goblin etiquette at him and Harry really hoped the pathetic flailing he did when an old goblin walked in afterward was appropriate, because he didn't understand half of what he was told. The blonde tossed him into a seat, stood a little behind him and began speaking with a goblin Harry had never seen before as if Harry wasn't even there. A little rude to be honest. But probably for the best as Harry didn't _actually _know what they were doing there, Draco could be selling him on the goblin black market for all he knew.

Oh dear.

"Heir Potter will need a _Premium Inheritance Test _today, I don't care what you need to do to make it happen just make sure that it does in fact happen, a list of available sponsors...let's say the _Gray List_? That would probably be safest for now. One complete _Family Lineage Map_, the _Heir Ring _because I'm guessing he hasn't bothered to test his magicks against it yet, his _Terms of Inheritance_, and a list of _Family Alliances, Contracts_..."

Complete gibberish.

Then it was a lot of signing and nodding and vowing and spilling of blood. It sounded a_ lot_ more interesting than it was. Mostly Harry copied Draco and tried not to look as lost as he totally was.

This really was a good idea though and when he got a minute he'd explain it to Tom who was freaking out through their connection. From some of the books he'd gotten from Tom prior to Summer vacation, Harry learned about some aspects of pureblood society. One of those things were the important coming of age marks in a young wizards life and Harry as a_ first generation pureblood _or a wizard with two magical parents, one a pureblood, he was subject to these coming of age marks as well. One of them was the introduction into society which happened at the age of thirteen. The young wizard in question was thrown a party, usually by his father's relatives, traditionally his father's favorite cousins or uncles, unless his father was not a pureblood and then it got a bit more complicated. He didn't know_ how_ complicated because he didn't read that part. It didn't have to do with him so he wasn't interested.

The young wizard was introduced to people in society, Magical, Magical Being, and Creature society, that his family wanted him connected with, along with their heirs and daughters for possible_ companions_, _alliances, betrothals and friendships._ This also happened at the age of ten to a lesser extent so young witches and wizards could form some friendships before going to school. this was why a lot of the kids seemed to know each other on the train ride even though they'd been first years like him. Unfortunately, since Harry hadn't done one of those it did two things, made him look like a snobbish recluse, and made him even _more_ ill prepared than muggleborns, because unlike them he was actually expected to _know_ this stuff. He also found out that not shaking Draco's hand was a big deal.

Oops.

Speaking of which.

"Why the Hell are you all the way back there? Get up here and_ sit down_ so he can hear you properly and you aren't yelling in my ear Draco. You look _absurd_."

The blonde was surprised, then pleased, then smug. He pulled a chair beside him, sat, and then went on speaking with the goblin who shot Harry an approving nod for- what? Not being an ass? He could be nice, he didn't mean to embarrass Draco that one time. And he really did know a lot more about pureblood society now. No one has faith anymore.

He did not pout. He didn't.

Anyway the important thing is, at these functions all of your family and extended family is invited, and since Sirius Black was his Godfather Harry could legally send him an invite and Black could legally attend without the aurors throwing him back into Azkaban. Hopefully this would earn him some points with Black before they even met, both for his sneakiness and his obvious effort to keep him out of jail. That ought to at least make him interested in what Harry wanted, shouldn't it? All the other Blacks would be there anyway, since his grandmother was one. He was just using the Godfather bit as an additional excuse in case anyone tried to start anything when he showed up.

He might have to bring this up with Draco now that he thought about it. The blonde could get upset if a mass murderer shows up and Harry knew about it ahead of time and said nothing. That was rude even by normal people etiquette.

"Do you want to have a look at your vaults after this Harry? While we're here? You can't get into most of them with your muggles I imagine but I already turned thirteen and started my heirship training so_ I_ can take you."

"Vaults? As in...vaults? _Plural?"_

Fair brows furrowed.

"You don't keep track of your vaults? Do you have someone else appointed to, because we'll need to call them in if you do."

Harry frowned. "The only vault I am aware of is the one I was brought to when Hagrid gave my key to the goblins my first visit right before first year."

"Just the one? That's your school account Harry? Hang on, Hagrid brought you? The grounds-keeper? And _why on earth did he have your key_?"

"...There is something wrong here isn't there?"

Draco studied him for a moment. "Harry, I think we're going to have to call my solicitor."

"I think that would be wise Mr. Potter. There seem to be...discrepancies...that we need to_ solve_ before we move further, you seem woefully ill prepared for your heirship." The goblin rumbled, speaking directly to Harry. The word solve in that sentence sounded far more ominous then it ever should.

A number of things could have gone through Harry's mind just then. Anger. Confusion. Someone hadn't old him things he should no, big surprise there. He had more vaults, and an heirship which didn't register before now and he didn't know a thing about his family's accounts or any of his responsibilities. He'd gain his Lordship at fifteen being the only living member of the Potters. How was anyone expecting him to handle it? But no, these weren't his thoughts. In fact, only a name came to mind.

"Do you have any ideas who may have altered your permissions?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

Silence. Then lots of movement and sound and cursing. Another hour of frantic paper pushing and blood-letting later, a tall wizard with dull blue eyes and yellow blonde hair joined them, standing beside the desk.

Harry reached over, took Draco's watch, checked the time and froze. Oh crap, Tom. He put the watch make, ignoring the incredulous look on the solicitor's face, the amusement on the goblins face and the embarrassment mixed with smugness on Draco's. He pulled out his diary and flipped it open.

_Tom! Lovely day isn't it? Slightly overcast skies-_

**What did you do.**

_Harsh. And I am not entirely sure._

**Harry I find myself far from reassured. You were in a book store, looking for books. This level of random trouble is a talent you **_**do**_** know that?**

_...yes_

**Harry.**

_I asked Draco Malfoy to help me and now I've been kidnapped to somewhere in Gringotts and Draco's talking to goblin about Family Alliances and Heir Rings and Inheritance Tests and I wasn't really listening so I am not sure what else, and now I have more vaults than I thought and I'm gonna be a Lord!_

**Is he sitting or standing?**

_What? Draco? Er, sitting, but what does that-_

**To the left or to right or across from you? **

_The right._

**Directly next to you or slightly behind?**

Harry growled at the diary, earning glances from the others in the room who still existed even though he'd forgotten them. _He's right bloody next to me, our chairs aren't three inches apart. Now tell me why our seating arrangements matter!_

**Harry.**

_Yes?_

**What. The. Hell.**

_What? What did I do!? _Alright, maybe he still had some things to learn.


	6. Light Him Up

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_You tried to make me think, That the blame was all on me_

_With the pain you put me through_

_But now I know that its not me its you, _

_It __always has been you_

* * *

"You're accusing your magical guardian?"

Harry looked at the solicitor sharply, half closing the diary.

"My what?"

The man glanced at the papers in his hand. "Albus Dumbledore. He's been your legal guardian for eleven and a half years."

Harry thought about joining Tom in the banging of heads against walls. "Alright, just to cement this_ horrible_ image in my mind, what does that entail? What permissions does he have as a magical guardian."

"Well, his job is to make sure you are well, keep track of your educational progress, select your school, keep you out of danger, monitor your friends and associations and choose a proper home guardian and place of living."

"Say that last bit again."

The solicitor looked at him oddly. "Er, choose a proper home guardian and place of living."

"That's what I thought you said."

He glanced down and winced at the cursing Tom was doing.

Having enough of the fluctuating emotions through the link, Tom forced Harry to write down everything that happened from the moment Draco showed up in the bookshop to now, including every single thing Harry said, whom he said it to, what his body language and distance from said person was at the time, who was present to witness it and everything else he'd done. When he got to the part about reaching around Draco to use his watch in front of the solicitor and the goblin Harry got the vague feeling that Tom was beating his head against a wall somewhere in the Chamber. Unfortunately time did not in fact pause while he did this so more things were happening around him that he had to in turn report to Tom. This resulted in an obscene amount of writing in the diary and he was relieved when the solicitor took this to mean Harry was taking notes and paying close attention. He totally wasn't, but that's what Tom's memory of awesomeness was for. Er, if he didn't bash his brains out first.

That would be inconvenient.

What Harry got out of this was something about companions, declarations and public displays of favor. All of which he probably ought to capitalize but was too frightened by what all of this might mean to care right then. Tom was lucky he could read Harry's handwriting at the point.

The fact he was letting Draco 'handle' it for him was also a big deal. Harry was of the opinion you could say hello the wrong way at a pureblood party and star a damn war with it. He said as much to Tom, who did not find it funny. Harry really wished that that didn't mean it was true, because he was seriously beginning to consider just dropping bombs on the wizarding world and then rebuilding it. Seemed like it might actually be easier than dealing with all of this pureblood nonsense.

Touching someone whose first name you just used without permission and dragging them around offers familiarity and a position of friendship. Which would explain why Draco was so caught off guard considering Harry had rejected his offer of friendship back in first year. This was also why Draco had insisted on physical contact when they were going through Gringotts, it showed everyone that Harry was, essentially, under the Malfoy Heir's protection and also established that they were familiar with one another. Familiar in the pureblood sense meant they could call one another by their first names or even a nick name, talk to one another with informal protocols, Harry didn't even know what that meant, and was a declaration of being in the process of a _negotiation of__ friendship_. Friendship in the pureblood world wasn't even cut and dry.

This was ridiculous.

Each step of 'familiarity' offered each person different permissions with regard to the other person and was a very big part of surviving in this society, you had to know who was familiar with whom and to what degree before socializing unless you played it safe and kept to basic socializations. The pureblood kids his age were tested on this constantly by their parents and he now knew why some of the older kids would suddenly get nosy around certain times of year. They weren't actually eavesdropping or anything, they were updating themselves before major functions like the Summer Meeting, holiday balls, ministry events and the like.

From what he now knew Harry was pretty sure he'd offended everyone when he first arrived in the wizarding world. The only good news was that everyone assumed he knew most of this stuff and so thought him snobbish and aloof and purposely 'informal' and rebellious rather than an _ignorant idiot_.

Thank Merlin for small mercies.

"Harry?"

He looked up from the diary. Draco leaned close to him.

"Look," he whispered, "accusing Dumbledore is a big deal and honestly we haven't got a strong enough case here to do much more than stir things up a bit. He's too high above us to do this on our own, I'm really sorry that he's messing in your affairs but if you really want to fix this you're gonna-"

"Need to take my time, gather information, build a file of evidence and then strike him where he's most vulnerable when he least expects it?"

Draco stared.

He tensed a bit. "What?"

"I just... I really thought I was going to have to ease you into the idea."

Harry laughed. "I think I'm going to surprise you Draco Malfoy.'

"You already have."

A throat cleared.

The solicitor and the goblin exchanged a glance. The solicitor, Donovan Gray, pushed forward a file.

"This is everything we know based solely on your accounts, and while we have proof that you aren't getting your correspondences from the bank, that you aren't receiving your training invites or proper information about your responsibilities we can not actually prove that Dumbledore is behind it. We can speculate and it is probable from the little evidence we have but-"

"He's in. Drop the act."

Donovan blinked at Draco, then grinned. He loosened his tie, took off his coat and leaned forward on the desk.

"Alright, you want revenge. I have to warn you, this is big. Beyond big. Taking down Dumbledore is everyone's wish and a lot of people have destroyed themselves trying. He's big fish. Luckily you are the flavor of the week as it were. So, the question is, just how far are you willing to take this Heir Potter? Once you step down this road there won't be any going back."

Harry nodded and let out a breath.

"Look. My legacy is all I have left of my parents. It's everything to me. So, as far as I am concerned, that means Albus Dumbledore tried to steal both my legacy and what means most to me in this world, from me. I am not okay with that. I think it is only fair that I return the favor."

Donovan hummed, scribbling everything down on a piece of parchment.

"Alright, so, are we taking his money? His fame, his good name, his friends, his connections, his power base, his peace of mind..?"

Harry looked at Donovan, then the goblin, then Draco. He had the feeling Tom was going to be even more upset with him in a moment.

"Everything. I want everything. I want to see him burn. "


	7. Unintentional Molestation

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_**1,** something's got to give, __**2,** something's got to give, **3,** something's got to give_

_NOW_

_Let the bodies hit the floor, Let the bodies hit the floor, Let the bodies hit the _

_FLOOR_

_Push me again, This is the end_

_Here we go!_

* * *

Pain. Darkness. Loneliness.

Life before magic was horrible. Life before magic was a sea of endless gray with Harry floundering in the middle searching for purchase, trying not to drown, no sense of direction. No purpose. He was a freak and freaks didn't mean much in the grander scheme of things. That's what he was told. That's what he believed. It was all he knew, all he understood, and he grew to be secure in his place in the world of service he was made to endure as a freak, and the warm darkness of a locked cupboard.

He'd accepted his lot in life. He was Freak. He was no one and nothing and frankly he was good at being nothing. There was only breathing, and focusing, and pushing through the day. Because there wasn't anything else. There never would be. No one was going to save him or protect or even ask if he was okay, not the nurses or teachers or even his old babysitter with the cats. Because he was freak.

"Harry."

Then there was magic. Albus Dumbledore gifted it to him in the form of a half giant with a pink umbrella. He gifted it in a golden keep to a vault of equally golden coins. A wand.

A ticket to a new world. Literally.

Life after magic was confusing, and amazing and terrifying. Suddenly anything was possible. Just as suddenly, monsters were real. And they were looking for him. There were killing curses, and trolls and snakes who killed people with their eyes. And Albus Dumbledore patting him on the head and telling him what a good boy he was. Telling him how sorry he was but he couldn't let Harry stay at school over Summer break. He couldn't let Harry stay at the Weasleys for the Summer. He couldn't give him a pass to the restricted section. He couldn't give him extra lessons. He couldn't tell him about his parents, or Voldemort, or Death Eaters or Dark Magic. These things weren't his concern and he was only protecting Harry. He cared about Harry. And Harry had to defeat the Dark Lord and evil doings in the castle and battle with the Slytherins and ignore Dark Magicks and behave and do as he was told. His thoughts didn't matter nor did his opinions or desires. Because, even in the wizarding world, he was a freak.

_"Harry."_

And then it was back to scrubbing floors and harsh words and smacks to the head and bruises on his arm and spending the night outside because he was locked out for breaking a glass. Leaning against the tool shed, shivering and staring at the stars and dreaming of the day he'd return to Hogwarts. Letters returned unopened by Dumbledore. Vaults hidden by Dumbledore. Will sealed by Dumbledore. Home chosen by Dumbledore.

Magical Guardian.

_Freak._

"Harry! Dammit Harry snap out of it!

He could have lived somewhere else. Anywhere else. Hell he was The-Boy-Who-Lived and the heir to a noble house there had to been a good number of pureblood families willing to take him in. He could have been raised with adopted siblings, like a family. Treated like a human being. He would have known about magic and about Hogwarts and getting trained in his legacy. He would have met Ron and Draco and other kids his age _long_ before school started. Harry wouldn't have thought his name was freak until he was six. No cupboards or days without speaking for fear of being laughed at or ignored. That was his greatest fear. When he five his cousin Dudley took to pretending Harry wasn't there. At dinner that night his aunt and uncle liked the idea so much they decided they wanted to play too. For three weeks Harry wasn't there. He tried begging and screaming and crying and throwing things. But no one could hear him or see him because he wasn't there.

Because Albus Dumbledore put him there with those people.

Albus Dumbledore who, according to the very official document in front of him, was required by magical contract as his guardian to physically check on and confirm his living situation and health, twice every year. On the dates he was sent to his babysitter for what were suppossedly yearly faimly days for his aunt, uncle and cousin. Albus Dumbledore signed a paper after every visit confirming that he had been chosen Harry's room, his clothing, and his medical records. Albus Dumbledore who knew Harry's darkest secret and did nothing to change because, according to the paper, he honestly believed that Harry was exactly where he needed to be.

Someone was shaking him and speaking to him and Harry wanted to answer but he couldn't hear them above the rushing in his ears and the fire in his veins and the swirling, snapping, stinging waves that was rolling around him and blurring everything around him. He didn't what it was or why it was there or how to make it stop or even if he wanted to. Because the cutting, searing, biting feeling was intoxicating. In him, out of him, around him, burning and chilling and filling. And then he couldn't remember who he was or where he was or what he was doing there, there was only his magic and it's whispers vowing vengeance on behalf of it's master. Drawling, hissing whispers caressing his cheeks and weaving patterns along his skin, promising him vindication if he would only free it but he didn't know how and it was frightening. Harry reached for it, clawed for it, and felt it reaching back on the other side of the glass. There was a barrier keeping them apart. Why was it there? He needed his power! It was a part of him. And now an aching that had always been there was suddenly more noticable and unbearable and...

Something brushed his Lips lightly, Harry felt it through the hazy chaos his mind had become. It pushed on his lips, a hand tangled in his hair. Spice. Blood. Stale Water. A hand was on his chin, a tongue in his mouth, a strong arm pulling him up along a hard body. And the haze faded and everything started to clear. He could feel cool hands and soft hair, and the pain receded resulting in a small moan escaping his lips which was embarrassing and _ohmygodsomeoneiskissingme._

Harry snapped his eyes open and promptly fell over backwards.

"Draco!"

The blonde, whose face was very flushed, waved his hands about desperately.

"I'm so sorry but I didn't know what else to do. You just sort of had a fit and you couldn't hear me and then this wind kicked up and your magic went mad. Everything was breaking and the magical pressure was unbearable and I was afraid you were going to kill yourself and then Nimbletack said Magical Chaos was caused by emotional upheaval which makes your magic unbalanced and it needed to be countered with an opposing emotion and I didn't know what else to do!"

"So you thought molestation was the answer?"

Draco sat in his char and covered his face with his hands.

"Oh Merlin never bring this up again I beg you. I only did it because he told me to." The Slytherin moved a hand to point at the goblin who was grinning.

"I only wanted to see if he would do it. And if it would work."

Both boys gaped.

"You mean you didn't know it would work? I could have died!" Draco's face couldn't decide if he ought to be mortified or outraged and the result expression was hilarious.

Harry couldn't help it, he snickered.

Silver eyes snapped to him. "And just what is so funny? I was worried you know. And that was my first bloody kiss too and oh Merlin how am I going to tell my _mother?"_

And then Lucius Malfoy walked in.

A regal cane snapped on the floor, the Malfoy Lord looking as intimidating as ever greeted Donovan and Nimbletack before standing to the left of the desk. He pulled out a packet of parchment and set it down.

"The list, as requested. I have to admit I'm a little surprised by this entire ordeal, this is very out of the ordinary."

Donovan grinned, "You have _no idea_."

Lucius turned to Draco then paused, his brows coming together slightly. A large hand settled on the smaller blonde's forehead.

"Dragon? Are you ill? Your face is a bit red."

Harry lost it.

* * *

**And there is the new chapter ya'll crazy kids!**

* * *

**AN:** Hey guys, alright so I'd normally never do this but this really bothered me so I felt the need to bring it up.

I was told in a PM that sometimes I write 'too straight' and that if I were 'more comfortable with my sexuality' my writing would be even better because I "am obviously suppressing" and it's "insulting to write straight when there are slash elements" to my stories. Does anyone else feel this way or is it just the one? Also I don't see how my sexuality has anything to do with how well I write, for one, and there isn't any actual slash in any of my stories. Just lots and lots of innuendo and implied slash, especially where Harry and Tom are concerned in _Very Bad Boys_ but I see that more as their obsession with controlling and dominating each other rather than anything legitimately fluffy or _romantic._ Some of it is also for the lols. Sorry for the rant, I just wanted to know, and honestly I felt a little offended. My sexuality isn't anyone's business and I don't desire to advertise it.


	8. Oh What Fun It Is

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can. Am I being clear with the structure of the pureblood society I've created? I want to be informative without being a thesaurus.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_There's a rumble in the floor_

_Get prepared for war_

_When it hits it'll knock you to the ground_

_...this is your last warning_

_A courtesy call_

* * *

Draco sat around a long table in the chamber their, now not so little, group moved to shortly after Harry's magical outburst. He was quite pleased that his father agreed with his choice to involve himself with Harry, of course it would have been near social suicide to bluntly refuse the offer of assisting another heir in their _Magickal acknowledgement._ It was a very big honor to be asked and Draco was actually a little touched that Harry had done enough research to know he was related to Draco through both his paternal grandmother and legally through his Godfather- who was Sirius Black of all people., and choose Draco for help. He was certain Harry would ask either Longbottom, whose family had a history of companionship contracts and alliances with the Potters, or that damned ginger to help him with it. Draco hadn't expected to know the details or even be invited, honestly. At least not willingly though Potter's sponsor, if he knew what he was doing, might have at least made him send out a polite invitation.

Especially when the date of announcement passed and the Potter Heir had, once again, declined to make his coming of age mark open to society. The scandal of it would have been the gossip of the Summer Meeting if Nott's family hadn't gone and tried to displace Draco's _Magickal acknowledgment_. Of course his friend sent him an owl apologizing but it was still enough to cause discomfort when their parents were in the same room.

And now here he was, a _Negotiation of Friendship_ initiated with the Potter Heir as well as a place as First Companion to the Potter Heir. He did not see that one coming, in fact he was beyond shocked, and delighted, when Harry turned around and rather cleverly disguised his invitation as an obvious choice and an insult. It was almost Slytherin. The blonde was justifiably smug about it and was looking forward to rubbing it in Ronald Weasley's _face_ the very moment a chance permitted its self. Of course Harry would probably remain friends with the scruffy boy, unfortunately, but Draco would always be higher ranking among Harry's associates in comparison to the Weasel, and everyone else actually unless Harry took a consort or accepted a betrothal contract, and that was enough for him. For now.

Draco was startled out of his thoughts when the object of them slammed his hands against the top of the tabel and glared at his father.

I may have missed something.

"Potter, Harry, I understand this is a lot for you but the fact is we must be very careful in how we choose to pursue this because the bottom line is this; with your name and reputation and your alignment you can only be connected to certain aspects of this. Some of these things are going be out of your reach simply because of who you are. Being the child of Light-Aligned and Neutral Aligned bloodlines, as well as having the 'stain' of dark blood from your Black blood is going to cause enough of an issue with this as it is. I truly understand how upset you must be at Dumbledore's handling of your affairs but I must express my concerns, you need to be cautious-"

"No. _You_ don't understand."

Harry stood up slowly, hands in fists at his side, infuriated.

Draco tried to clam his new friend down, heir or not it was never the best idea to yell at his father. "Harry, we can easily remedy this, there's no need to go too far. Father say-"

And Draco was cut off as well.

"That isn't it. This isn't _about_ vaults or wills or my status in the world. It's more than just keeping secrets or telling lies. This..." He swallowed.

"This is about _Harry Hunting_. This is about scrubbed floors and soapy frying pans used as weaponry. This is about scars. This is about hiding in trees from barking dogs. It's about a cupboard under the stairs. It's about a car crash that _wasn't_ and drunks who _weren't_. It's about being invisible. It's about a boy named Freak. It's not about petty revenge, it's about a day of reckoning. I don't _care_ what alignment my parents had or what the world _expects_ from me or what they might _think_. I will wait weeks, I will wait months, I will wait years for the perfect moment to strike him down. Because I'm not on anyone's side but my own and what I want is Dumbledore's head on a freaking platter. I want his reputation, I want his friends, I want his world to go up in flame so I can use the ashes for face-paint when I declare war on him and everything he holds dear. Every book, every stupid shiny device, every contact, every person, every memory that gives him joy I will take as collateral until I see fit to collect his life. I will accept nothing else and if you will not help me see to it I will find_ someone else_ who will. I am sure there are many who will jump at the opportunity."

It was silent.

Draco's father was the first to collect himself, which didn't surprise Draco. His father was the ultimate survivalist, he could easily get a grip on his emotions to analyze the situations he found himself in and choose he best course of action with a clear head. He watched his father stand and walk around the table to stop in front of Harry who was having a tough time calming his breaths from his outburst. His father took Harry by the chin and lifted his head to face him.

"Look me in the eye. Show me."

Several minutes passed then his father released Harry's face and took a step back, eyes glittering.

"What are you willing to do to carry this out Harry? Are you willing to return to that place? Are you willing to endure months or years if necessary worth of pain, willing to record with valuable memories Dumbledore's treachery?"

Harry nodded without hesitation.

"I will do whatever it takes."

"Good boy."

Lord Malfoy turned on his heel to face Donovan and Nimbletack who'd remained quiet until now. "I require a pensive, a neutral alignment auror, and a contract of sponsorship drawn up."

Donovan perked up at this, pulling out the required request forms and lists from his seemingly limitless file. Draco was reasonably certain there was more going on then a simple expansion charm here, the amount of papers he access to in there was beyond belief. He'd never seen someone as organized as Donovan. Well, maybe Sev, he amended. But Sev was hardly a normal person and so he chose to ignore him in favor of seeing Donovan as an obsessive of some sort.

"The chosen Sponsor?"

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. _I_ will sponsor Heir Potter."

Donovan didn't bat an eyelash at the proclamation, he only filled out the paperwork. This was why he was so successful. He was so good at his job that Lucius Malfoy had purchased him as the Malfoy family's personal confidant. There was a bit of an uproar in the community after this, calling the Malfoy Lord any number of names. But, Draco's father only smiled sunnily at them and nonchalantly remarked that any more defamations of his character would require him to_ contact his solicitor._ It was one of Draco's favorite memories of his father.

Harry blinked and looked at Draco's father cautiously. "Excuse me, Lord Malfoy, I mean this only out of curiosity, but on what grounds? I thought only family through my father could be eligible as a sponsor?"

The older blonde smiled widely and pat Harry on the head like a favoured pet.

"But we do have a familial bond Harry," the Lord purred, "through your first companion, Draco, whom you are related to through his mother, my wife, favorite cousin of your godfather."

Draco found this...concerning.

"But father, won't you need to have Black sign his acceptance of your position? He is technically Lord black and eligible to do so now that he isn't in Azkaban."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I plan to have a meeting of my own with Sirius and a mutual associate of ours." Harry paused and examined Malfoy senior. "Actually, my friend is a mutual associate of yours too. I'll take care of Black signing. You go ahead and file for sponsorship."

Lucius cocked his head, amused and intrigued.

"Who is this mutual associate?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Donovan ran a hand through his yellow-ish hair. "You have to know, Heir Potter, Dumbledore won't take this appointment lying down. We can hold off telling him if you wish, bt he'll be displeased and possibly suspicious either way."

"Nonsense. We'll play it off as my being an over ambitious Slytherin unable to keep my greedy little hands to myself. I cornered Potter, spoke to him about it, caught him off guard and here we are." Lucius corrected, absently.

Draco had to take back his earlier predictions of a boring day ahead of him.

Conspiracies. Assassination plots. This was the most fun the young heir had had in a very long time. He was getting to see his father in action! Draco never imagined his first foray into politics would involve working with his father, working to bring down Dumbledore or aligning himself with Potter of all people. At thirteen no less. Honestly he was feeling a bit smug with himself. He really should have tried harder to become friends with the Gryffindor earlier, who knew he was such a source of excitement? Well of course there were his yearly suicide attempts featuring dragons, Dark Lords and demon dogs, so it wasn't as if he'd been living a boring life prior to this. It just wasn't the sort of excitement Draco was looking for well. Maybe not the dragon though, he quite liked dragons. He only turned them in because he was jealous he didn't get invited to go see the dragon as well. He knew all about them of course, being named as he was he couldn't help but develop an interest. That was in the past though and now was a part of the greatest betrayal the wizarding had ever seen. Merlin it was good to be him.

When he was sufficiently pumped up he decided to go talk with his co-conspirator, who just finished writing in his journal. The boy had some sort of complex about recording everything that happened around him.

"Harry, did you just willingly choose one of these Slytherins as your first companion and another as your solicitor and yet another as your Sponsor for your official welcome into the wizarding pureblood society? All three of them dark aligned?"

Harry offered him one of his beaming smiles.

"I think I did."

Draco nodded seriously and pretended to write his answers down on a pad like a reporter.

"And what do you have to say for yourself?"

The small Gryffindor shrugged. _"YOLO?"_


	9. On With The Show

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Now, dance fucker, dance_

_Man, he never had a chance_

_And no one even knew_

_It was really only you_

_...with a thousand lies, and a good disguise_

_Hit 'em right between the eyes_

* * *

"...I will accept nothing else and if you will not help me see to it I will find someone else who will. I am sure there are many who will jump at the opportunity."

But he hadn't meant to say some of the things he said. A dam sort of burst in him after he started talking and then he was rambling and saying things he shouldn't. He caught himself in time, of course, and quickly turned it to his advantage. He'd make them want to help him. He was an heir to a pureblood family, who was being mistreated by muggles. Whose legacy was being kept from him by Albus Dumbledore. He had to make it personal for them as well. A matter of principle for their society, to which he would soon belong.

Draco's father approached him, slowly, and tilted his chin. Silver eyes bored into him and Harry realized he may have bitten off more than he could chew.

"Look me in the eye. Show me."

And then his life was quite literally flashing before his eyes. When the inside of the cupboard came into view Harry pushed the image away as hard as he could. He needed to try to control what images the Malfoy Lord saw. He needed to witness just enough to believe Harry, enough to want to help him, but not enough to use any of it against him. And he wasn't ready for anyone to know how far it went. Not yet. They wouldn't understand it. They could understand being treated less than well by muggles, they loathed muggles and the witch trials were a part of the pureblood society's thoughts regarding muggles. Why some of them turned to Voldemort. They would understand that yes but there were still many things he wasn't ready for anyone to see. There were things he couldn't deal with himself and he was there. He was a wizard and he was helpless against them and all he could see in his head were flashes of things no one was going to get to see.

He could feel Lucius pressing against his mind, trying to force the images back to one's Harry was skipping over but Harry wouldn't let him. Instead he brought forward memories of the times he'd asked Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts. Harry thought of his first meeting with Hagrid and first visit to Gringotts. He thought of the hat telling him he would do well in Slytherin. He though of speaking in snake language during his and Draco's duel last year.

Then he pushed the Slytherin out.

Judging from the glitter in Lucius' eyes, much more to his liking the Dumbledore's obnoxious twinkling, Harry would say he succeeded in winning the man to his cause. Maybe not as loyally as he'd prefer, but enough for now. Tom could always see to him later if Lord Malfoy became a...problem. Harry winced. Nothing good would come from_ that_ sort of a conversation.

"What are you willing to do to carry this out Harry? Are you willing to return to that place? Are you willing to endure months or years, if necessary, worth of pain, willing to record with valuable memories Dumbledore's treachery?"

Harry nodded without hesitation. There was no question really, he'd even prefer it this way. Years worth of evidence? That would hit the old man hard.

"I will do whatever it takes. I have lived this life for twelve years, I can live with it for more."

"Good boy."

Harry had no idea why a compliment usually given to dogs pleased him so much. He really needed to psychoanalyze himself when he got the chance. He might need some kind of therapy or something.

Lord Malfoy turned on his heel to face Donovan and Nimbletack who'd remained quiet until now. "I require a pensive, a neutral alignment auror, and a contract of sponsorship drawn up."

"The chosen Sponsor?"

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. I will sponsor Heir Potter."

Harry stared at Lord Malfoy, trying not to grin, and forced an uncertain look on his face.

"Excuse me, Lord Malfoy, I mean this only out of curiosity, but on what grounds? I thought only family through my father could be eligible as a sponsor?"

He already knew the answer of course but he had to let the older man feel like it was his own idea. If this was going to work he would have to keep Lucius Malfoy convinced for as long as possible that while Harry was against Dumbledore and disillusioned with the Light, he was still an impressionable child who needed guidance and would be easily manipulated. He had to believe that he could get and keep The-Boy-Who-Lived under his thumb. Gaining control of him out from under Dumbledore's nose should be a prize hard for the Slytherin to resist.

The man smiled and pat Harry on the head like a favoured pet. Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"But we do have a familial bond Harry," the Lord purred, "through your first companion, Draco, whom you are related to through his mother, my wife, favorite cousin of your godfather."

"But father, won't you need to have Black sign his acceptance of your position? He is technically Lord black and eligible to do so now that he isn't in Azkaban."

This was working out perfectly.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I plan to have a meeting of my own with Sirius and a mutual associate of ours." Harry paused and examined Malfoy senior. "Actually, my friend is a mutual associate of yours too. I'll take care of Black signing. You go ahead and file for sponsorship."

"Who is this mutual associate?"

Harry could feel Tom's curiosity at the emotions Harry was sending him and couldn't wait to fill the teenage Dark Lord in on what he'd done. Normally he was yelled at for doing things without asking for Tom's input but he knew the boy would be proud of how Harry turned this around. He still might get hexed though.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You have to know Heir Potter," said Donovan, "Albus Dumbledore won't take this appointment lying down. We can hold off telling him if you wish, bt he'll be displeased and possibly suspicious either way."

"Nonsense. We'll play it off as my being an over ambitious Slytherin unable to keep my greedy little hands to myself. I cornered Potter, spoke to him about it, caught him off guard and here we are." Lucius corrected, absently.

And that was how it was done. Harry was surprised how easy it was to manipulate them into doing what he wanted. Of course it helped that he had a better understanding of the rule now, and he did get a bit swept along in the beginning there but he thought he made a smooth recovery. He would simply have to focus on his previous dislike of the man from last year when he was in a room along with Dumbledore. Harry wasn't stupid, how ever naïve might allow himself to_ appear_ to be, he knew if Lucius Malfoy could read minds, than someone like Dumbledore could too. He didn't know if he'd be able to direct Dumbledore the way he had Malfoy so it would be best to have feelings of dislike for the Slytherin ready near the surface to dissuade any curiosities. And to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

Harry glanced around then brought out the diary.

_Tom._

**What have you done now?**

_How much do you love me?_

**You finally did something clever instead of acting like a Gryffindor did you?**

_I'm going to ignore that. But guess who I've secured as my sponsor? Who also thinks it was entirely his own idea?_

**You didn't.**

_I did, actually. What do you think of that Mr. Future Dark Lord?_

**You little genius! I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Aside from being pretty to look at of course.**

_That wasn't at all creepy or insulting, thank you._

**With your lace on your cuffs and your pretty hair...**

_I'll spray-paint the chamber pink if you don't stop. I won't mind it. I am one hundred percent comfortable with myself as a male, I can rock a pink base of operations._

**And you're going to use your blood connections and Lucius' status as your sponsor to justify inviting Black to your _Magickal Acknowledgement._ That was your beginning intention wasn't it?**

Harry smirked at the change of topic. That's right be afraid Tom, fear the atrocious colour that is pink.

**Harry?**

_Yes. Though I probably could have gone about it a bit smarter._

**Indeed. However you saw an opportunity and you seized, then you made it work. Well done all around.**

_I should probably also mention that Draco is now what's called my First Companion?_

**Yes, I know.**

_You got all that from seating arrangements?_

**Pureblood customs are subtle, complicated and utterly ridiculous.**

_...I noticed._


	10. Cruel and Unusual

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_

_I see things nobody else sees_

_No one ever listens, This wall paper glistens_

_Hope no one looks in through the curtains_

* * *

Harry had no idea why the situation suddenly wrenched its self from his control. One moment he was explaining the concept of YOLO to Draco, who was actually quite taken with the term, and then he was in yet another room of Gringotts stood on a small platform while the Malfoys and a man with short curly hair and a high cheek bones circled around him like vultures over fresh meat. Harry studied them suspiciously, looking for any hint of cannibalistic tendencies. Not that he really thought they'd agreed to help him only to lure him into a false sense of security before descending on him with pointed teeth, but what did he know about what purebloods got up to in their spare time. They could eat mudblood steak for all he knew.

He really needed to get a grip on his imagination.

"I really like this beautiful orphan look you have going right now. It's well thought out, plays on emotions, women will want to mother you and their sons will want to protect you like a weak but favorite younger brother or cousin."

Harry had no idea what this man was talking about but he smiled shyly, tilting his head so his fringe barely covered his eyes. If beautiful, weak orphan was what the man wanted he could play the party easily enough. "Thank you, at least I think."

"Yes that there. That's fabulous." The man cooed.

Harry avoided looking at the obviously mental challenged man in the eyes, casting his gaze about the room instead. Thousands of rolls of fabrics, some in very unneccessary patterns, were situation around them in a large circle according to colours and shades. That must be a time-consuming job. To the left was table with strange lines and squares drawn on one side and half of a mannequin on the other side. Tailor's chambers or devices of cruel and unusual punishment?

Tough to say.

Draco snickered next to him and Harry shot him a fierce glare. Which apparently held no power because the little blonde only laughed a bit louder, putting a hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep decorum.

Lucius agreed, standing close beside Un-named Creeper with Scissors. He studied him critically.

"I am going to continue with this look you have now, I don't see any need to change it. A lot of soft pieces I think, in darker colours to play up you dark hair and pull out those eyes. Maybe even only grays and blacks so your eyes are the only bits of colour on you."

"Androgynous. Make him androgynous. He's got the face for it and he's petite to begin with. And melancholy. That will play on sympathies and when he smiles it'll make more of an impact."

"Excellent thought Lucius. I agree entirely, very clever. Good eye."

Well, that was a lot of boot licking. Must taste awful.

Harry leaned in to Draco. "What the freaking Hell is _androgynous_?"

The blonde glanced up from the piece of silk he was wrinkling to polish his nails.

"No idea. But Father is getting that look in his eye so you better resign yourself to several hours as a dress up doll. You're just lucky mother isn't here. We'd never leave.

All the absurdly cutesy clothing being held up against him for a stranger approval made it hard for Harry to feel thankful at all for any part of this situation.

"Vanity is a thing with you Malfoys, isn't it?"

Draco raised his chin and ran slender fingers through his fair hair arrogantly.

"Of course it is. Have you seen us? And you and I have Black blood too. They're_ always_ good-looking."

"I'm so relieved. I stay up at night worried about being ugly."

"Well you're not, you've turned out well. You'll be even better when we're finished with you."

He didn't bother pointing out the sarcasm in his previous statement. It was a lost cause.

"Besides, this is about more than just making you _prettier_." Draco smirked.

Harry huffed. After the blonde recovered from what was now called The Snogging Incident he'd taken to teasing Harry. The Gryffindor preferred the Slytherin when he was frazzled. It wasn't fun not having the upper hand,. It wasn't like he could make fun of his looks. The boy was a damned peacock.

"It's about cultivating the persona you're going to display out in society. How you want the _world_ to perceive you. Are you intimidating, alluring, and pretentious? Are you calm, dark, sharp-tongued and a bit frightening? Are you cold, smug and snobbish?"

"Your father, Snape and yourself." Harry ticked them off on his finger.

Draco blinked.

"Huh. I wasn't expecting you to get that right a way."

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "I pay more attention than you think."

It really wasn't that hard to guess at all actually. These three had very distinctive personalities. That was part of what gave Draco this feeling of confidence about him. The fact that while the rest of the kids were struggling to figure out who they were in relation to the rest of the world and their places in it Draco always seemed to just know. To be so secure in his knowledge of who and what he was and where he belonged and how his world worked. It made Harry jealous on more than one occasion. He only ever knew who he was told to be right before he entered into the wizarding world. His improve skills had grown exponentially as a result.

"Right. Well what they're doing now is working on your image. You don't really have one at the moment because you've avoided society until now. Well, that's what they believe right now anyway. Of course at school you're a bit annoyingly brash and informal with literally _everyone_ but we can refine that. You obviously are capable of playing to your strengths and using your manners, we'll just have to get you used to using them at school."

"Swell."

And then they were talking about his hair and it's length and the colour of his lips and the shade of his eyes and pointing their wands in his faces and pouring potions down his throat. Rather like a doctor's check up from Hell. Or a normal one maybe, he'd never been to a doctor. Madam Pomphrey in one of her 'moods' came pretty close though.

"Longer!"

"Shinier!"

"Greener!"

"Plumper! And perhaps a pale purple colour? A bit darker, like they're _bruised._"

"..."

"Don't look at me like that, he's turning thirteen. He'll be going through the contracts meetings next year as it is. This is his first time into society, may as well get a head start, he's the only one who can pull off a first impression this close. We should use it."

"..."

"Stop that."

"Fine. Larger eyes while we're at it."

Draco nudged him. "And this is only for your general image. You get to come back and do it again before each event, aren't you pleased?"

"...I'd rather eat glass."

"That's the spirit!"

"You know, you're a sucky friend."

The blonde rolled his eyes and slung one arm around his shoulders, the other ruffling his hair affectionately. Harry was not amused.

"Hush. I'm doing what's best for you whether you like it or not. That's the mark of true friendship. You asked for my help and I am helping you. I need to to stand still and let it happen. So close your eyes and think of England if you must."

"That was almost frighteningly mature and insightful until the ending."

"Yes well, can't act too grown up just yet. It might stick." Draco shuddered.

A soft smile made its way to Harry's face.

Maybe Draco wasn't so bad.

"Try the tights and the leggings too! Oh and some lace up boots. Flats of course, he's cuter when he's smaller. Works better to make him seem fragile as well. What's the word? _Delicate_, that's right he's _delicate_." Called Draco, gaining the curly-haired man's attention. He got a feral gleam to his eyes and rushed off to the cupboards behind the fabric.

Then again, maybe he was the Antichrist.


	11. Wait, there's more!

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_A secret place, A sweet escape_

_Take me away_

_To better days, A hiding place_

_Take me away...Take me away_

* * *

A red shirt that wasn't red but _maroon_, and somehow that actually mattered though it wasn't explained why or how, was thrust at him after a shirt that may have been blue but frankly Harry was hesitant to assume anything about the names of colours as he'd been remarkably wrong in the last however many hours he'd been locked in this room with an unhinged tailor and two Malfoys.

In between pop quizzes on articles of clothing, their colour and materials and why it was important, because apparently the purebloods had some kind of dress _code_ and the Malfoys weren't honestly that prissy though Harry found that excuse suspect, he was also given a very quick education on politics from Lucius Malfoy.

Considering the guy was a Death Eater who'd gotten away with it and then managed to create and sustain a high enough reputation within the ministry and pureblood community to have the ear of the minister and a place on the _Hogwarts board of governor_s Harry recognized the opportunity for what it was. Unfortunately he didn't have Tom there with his _memory of awesome_ so he picked out the pieces that made the most sense and seemed most important, and let the rest filter through, his hands writing it alL on automatic separate from his brain she he didn't get an overload of information. He didn't even bother paying attention to the clothing information consciously, it all went written down as well.

On the bright this didn't give Tom enough time to write him back, because first he'd want to know all this and compare notes with how things were in his time, and secondly because he legitimately made an effort to make sure Tom didn't have enough space between paragraphs write back any sort of reply. Harry fully expected to get an earful, and hexes lets not forget those, when they next met to show Tom's displeasure at Harry's recent irresponsible adventure. The guy was gonna have to get used to it.

He was Harry Potter after all, what was a stroll down the alley without a little political intrigue and heir-napping?

Boring that's what.

Of course he came up with this whole scheme spontaneously and he still didn't know what a first companion was or how he acquired Draco as one or what that even meant and he may or may not have insulted a goblin who might be important with his flailing...

Tom might have a point actually.

"I can understand that but what I don't understand is how he can possibly think it's okay to keep all of this information from me and believe it's for the best for me to stay with my relatives? How is it he's allowed to make these choices without anyone being properly notified? And how could he possibly think he knows enough about how things might turn out for this to be the best possible course of action? What if this pushes me further away from him? Did he intend for me to never find out? And if yes, then why?"

The tall Lord nodded, re-crossing his legs in one of the comfortable, and expensive, looking chairs he and Draco brought in an hour back when they became tired from standing.

Harry, of course, still had to stand.

"Let's try again. You have heard this question, the 'If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?'"

He had.

"Well, this is really a trick question. A test, if you will. It's a test of your way of thinking. Because the real question isn't whether or not an unobserved fallen tree makes any sound, the question is whether or not the answer matters. Does it make any difference if it does or doesn't make a sound? What does it mean if it does or doesn't? Which answer might have further consequences on our lives and the way we view them, how we live them, the choices we make? Do you understand this?"

Harry let this question flow through his mind aimlessly for a bit, trying to see it from all sides and as objectively as one might.

"Well, if it falls and makes no sound as a result of no one being there to hear it, the question becomes whether it makes no sound because no one could hear it or if by our being there it then makes sound. Alternatively, if it makes a sound whether we are there or not, then it doesn't matter that we weren't there to hear it or that it happened at all, because it happened regardless of our knowledge of it. Not to say it's happening is unimportant, only that it doesn't matter if we were around to know it, because it still happened either way and it was always out side of our control to begin with. Our witness or non-witness doesn't affect the sound, we couldn't stop the sound or the consequences of the sound. The sound its self is always outside our realm of control."

"Very good. And?"

"If we did not know for certain beforehand what or any affect our witness or non witness of the falling tree would have, the best course would be to prevent the tree from falling at all, whether or not we were around or would in fact ever be around the tree. The problem with this is that we then would never know what the real consequences are, so if one day another person might come along, years later, and without knowing that there is opportunity of unknown and perhaps severe consequences from this action, allow the tree to be able to fall and then leave. Allowing the tree to fall or not fall in their presence on chance entirely, and isn't that frightening?"

"Do you think it would be better to find out or better to avoid it entirely?"

"I am uncertain."

"And if you were in a position of authority over your people, how would you handle the situation? Tell them the truth? Risk chaos? Wait until you've experimented behind their backs for a better grasp? Tell them nothing, and do nothing?"

He opened and closed his mouth many times.

"Welcome, Harry Potter, to politics."

Yay...

Initially, Harry was beyond pleased an hour later when he was able to escape the clutches of Draco's father and his crazy tailor friend who stared at Harry for just a bit too long with those sharp pins in his hand. Harry couldn't help but imagine the man in the corner of his office making mini Harry dolls and sticking them with those pins. The thought was probably irrational.

Probably.

It took two steps inside the door of Privet Drive for Harry to begin thinking back on the day's events with fondness. A psycho with sharp instruments and a mad godfather wanted for mass murder sounded delightful in comparison to the realization that Aunt Marge, his uncle's sister, had come to visit for an indeterminate amount of time and brought her Harry-Hating demon dog with her. In fact, Harry would have turned right back around and pretended to have gotten kidnapped if a meaty hand hadn't slammed the door shut behind him, and it's owner hadn't demanded his whereabouts in a voice that proclaimed no goodwill toward Harry or his person.

As he was being dragged up the stairs to be shoved unceremoniously into his room after being smacked around a bit for leaving without saying anything, being a freak, actually looking decent without their permission, existing and, probably, for coming back at all, Harry wondered if this wasn't Manhandle Harry Day as it certainly seemed so. He found that thought a lot funnier than he should have, considering the circumstances but when you're locked in a room with bars on the window, you've let an innocent, albeit stupid, girl die, a teenage Dark lord thinks you're adorable, your godfather is an escaped criminal you're inviting to your birthday party, the headmaster is plotting against you, and you accidentally form a magical contract with a Malfoy, finding the funny side of things became as necessary as rationing your food and hoping your pet owl didn't get so hungry as to start pecking you to bits when you slept.

So when a Hogwarts Elf popped into his room that night and tossed him a portkey without a by-your-leave or even a hello-how-are-you, he found it funny and laughed accordingly. When he reappeared in the Chamber he wasn't even a little surprised though he was a bit disappointed as it wasn't nearly as interesting an adventure as it might have been if it taken him somewhere more unexpected. Popping into a large secret cavern of rooms no one else knew about to be alone with a slightly psychopathic Dark Lord in training was losing it's terror factor.

"Explain."

Lamesauce.


	12. Who's pretending?

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**AN:** Two posts in a day? Dude that's wassup. I may try another if I get around to, you know, editing it. Spelling is important and stuff...

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_You're my only infatuation_

_Don't leave me stranded in my obsession_

_My purpose, My possession_

_...my obsession_

* * *

Having to explain one's self to one's newest, and only, _dark lordian_ friend, was remarkably like being sent to the principle's office in primary school. If the primary school was in a prison and the principle was allowed to kill you if the mood struck. So, really it was more like seeing the principle in a horror film.

Not nearly as exciting though. He was getting used to Tom.

"Explain." Came the somewhat bored command from a dark haired teen bent over a cauldron who didn't believe Harry TO BE something that needed his attention as he didn't turn around to look at him or even verify he was who he was meant to be. Not a proper greeting or a sarcastic remark or even a hex, which Harry had definately expected.

Harry was a little put out honestly.

He looked at his pour hand which had been set to writing out the days events on autopilot so Harry didn't have to pay attention. _All that writing for nothing._

Damn.

"I was in the book store minding my own business.." was followed by "Then he dragged me out the door whining about my taking so long to ask him for help..." then "So I flailed and no one ordered my head off so I supposed I did it the right way..." to "And then they shoved me in a room with a man with sharp pointy objects who tortured me for hours-"

"You allowed the Malfoys to take you to a tailor?"

"...maybe."

"Idiot. Continue."

He felt the love, truly.

"Then Lucius instructed me in the basic structure of wizarding politics. I returned home. Regretted it. A house elf chucked a bottle of ink at me which turned out to be a port key. I was suddenly here. Then a sarcastic jerk ignored me while I babbled on endlessly."

Tom hummed but said nothing.

Harry huffed but most definitely did not stamp his foot.

Finally Tom _I have better things to do than look at you _Riddle turned to face Harry, and promptly burst into laughter. Harry Potter did not pout. He didn't. Maybe a little.

He also plotted.

Carefully, the way Lucius and the Tailor-that-shalt-not-be-named spent an obscene amount of time coaching him to, Harry tilted his head down to the floor, nudged the ground with one foot, twisted the just barely too long sleeves of his shirts between his even smaller looking fingers, and power pout at the floor. Harry sniffled.

"I...well I t-thought it was sort of cute you know? But I guess it is kind of embarrassing, since I am a boy and n-now I kinda l-look like a girl. I suppose it was a s-stupid idea to let them but I thought it might be an okay Idea."

"What are you doing?"

Harry paused to glance up through his fringe at Tom then continued talking.

"And I did sort of like it and was n-nice to have m-my own clothes. All I normally get is my cousin's old c-clothes and they're always so b-big and d-dirty and I t-trip an awful lot-"

"Harry?'

Harry allowed his eyes to water a bit.

"a-and it hurts and then I get into t-trouble for ripping the pants or scratching the w-wall when I tumble into it from the s-stairs-"

"Stop that."

Here he looked up a bit more at Tom, letting a tear come to the corner of his eye.

Tom looked horrified.

"-and then they l-lock me in my room with the b-bars on the w-window and I h-have to s-sit there and p-pretend it doesn't hurt and the clothes f-fit p-properly and that the bed isn't bumpy and I'm not h-hungry and I just wanted some new clothes and I'm sorry if I look silly-"

The tear slid down his cheek, Harry waited until it fell from his chin before he looked back down at the floor. Then on a whim he collapsed to his knees.

He never said he didn't have a flair for the dramatic.

"-and I w-woulnd't have v-visited you at all if I knew you were just going to make f-fun of me. Draco thought it looked n-nice, well he didn't tell me he just s-sort of s-stared at me and didn't blink but his father said it was because he thought I l-looked nice and-"

"Aw Hell."

Cold finger tips on his chin tilted it up for Harry to see Tom kneeling in front of him. He was quiet surprised when Tom lifted him into his lap and patted his head awkwardly before wrapping his arms around him.

"I apologize."

One hundred million points to team Harry! One minute. Five minutes.

And... then he felt a little bad. He really needed to strangle his inner Gryffindor. It was inconvenient.

"Er look I wasn't really that upset I..er.."

"I know." Said Tom, tightening his grip and showing no signs of releasing Harry any time soon.

_Say what now?_

Harry gasped and pointed at Tom accusingly. "You used me so you could have an excuse to cuddle someone!"

The mini Dark Lord's smile faded immediately.

"It's alright Tom, even psychopaths need love. I won't judge. Or tell. Nope, never. Your secret sure is safe with me." Harry grinned maliciously.

Would this be an inappropriate time to cackle?

Slight pause. Blue eyes narrowed. The arms around him became as steel bars holding him in place.

"So, about _Draco Malfoy._"

Caught that did he?

"Er...?"

"You said he stared at you."

"Er."

"Did you have fun getting clothes with _Draco_?"

"Er."

"Making _Friends_ are you now?"

"Well I-"

Tom pulled him to his feet, dusted him off then wrapped a long-fingered hand around his neck.

"You aren't _forgetting_ about me are you Harry?" He asked sweetly, which was terrifying for Harry.

"Of course not-"

The hand squeezed.

"I thought _I _was your friend Harry. If you weren't my friend anymore, well, I don't know what I'd do."

Harry tried to pull the fingers from his throat.

"I-"

"And I really don't like other people trying to take my things away from me."

"I'm _not_ a possession." Harry gasped out. He was pretty sure he was turning blue by now if the fuzzy spots in the corners of his eyes were anything to judge such things by.

Tom pushed his back against the wall, releasing his throat and placing his hands on either side of Harry, effectively caging him in.

"But you are _little pretty. _You are mine. You were mine the moment I saw you. And I'll not share you with anyone, not Dumbledore or Draco Malfoy or your relatives or the wizarding world. I spent fifty years in that diary reliving my memories with no one and nothing out side of them until you allowed my escape. You were my motivation Harry. You gave me a purpose. I will not let anything take you away from me. Even if I have to crush it all so there's nothing left but me for you to turn to, even if I have to _lock you away _Harry."

He swallowed.

"Now, I like to show off things I know other's will be envious of, so I do want you to continue with your plans _little pretty. _But don't ever forget to whom you belong."

Harry nodded and gave a mocking Boy Scout salute.

Tom stepped back. He must have been very surprised indeed when Harry promptly flung himself at him in a hug because he gave out a bit of a gasp and was almost knocked over.

"_Aww_, you were jealous of Draco. That's so cute! Don't worry, I won't forget you Tom. You'll always be my first psychopath and no one can take _that_ away."

"...That's what you took from that?"

Harry pulled back to look up at the older teen.

"_And_ you think I'm pretty!"

Another hug, then a beaming smile and clasped hands and unnecessary cooing that would earn anyone else a good _Crucio. _But he wasn't Harry Potter_ the-boy-who-lived_ anymore, no sir, he was Harry Potter the _beautiful-melancholy-orphan_. He, dutifully as it'd be a shame to let all that training go to waste, widened his eyes in unrepentant fake-joy and bounced up and down. Dark Lords beware!

"It's alright Tom, I think you're pretty too."

Tom Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Harry studiously ignored that in favor of celebrating his victory inside his mind. After all, not may people could distract the future Voldemort with as much finesse as he did. Unmanly, very embarrassing finesse but effective none the less.

Ginny. Draco. Lord Malfoy. Tom.

He was getting good at this manipulation business, maybe he _should_ have been in Slytherin after all.

Now...to use his powers for good or for evil?

Choices.

"You do know you're talking aloud don't you?"

"Of...course I did. It's a _soliloquy._ I thought you were educated?"

Tom smirked.

"_Spell_ soliloquy."

"..."

He did not pout. He didn't. He, in a very rugged and manly way, showed his displeasure of doom. Or something.

"Idiot."


	13. Mental

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_I heard the reverberating footsteps syncing up to the beating of my heart_

_And I was positive that unless I got myself together I would watch me fall apart; I can't let that happen again_

_Who I am hates who I've been 'cus who I've been only ever made me so sorry for the person I became..._

_I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again_

_Because who I am hates who I've been_

* * *

"You're thinking too much Harry."

Harry blinked and looked away from the book he'd been staring at unseeingly. He turned and called out into the main area of the chamber, "How do you know? I could be knitting!"

"..._are_ you knitting?"

Harry pouted. "No."

A tall brunette made an appearance, bending long legs to sit beside the small Gryffindor.

"What is wrong? You may as well tell me, I can feel the emotions buzzing over the link anyway."

The boy looked at Harry expectantly. Harry rolled his eyes and huffed, crossing his arms before immediately uncrossing them and flailing them dramatically as he spoke.

"Life would be so much easier to traverse if the villains and the heroes stuck to the script and looked the part. What do you do when what is supposed to be right seems so wrong and intolerable? When the good guys are at the top of your list of people you cant stand and the bad guys are all witty and relate-able? What then?"

Tom arched a brow. "You're asking _me_?"

"Who else should I ask?"

The Slytherin leaned back against the wall. "We can not choose our truths, not really. We can only choose what we do about them."

Harry rearranged himself to lay his head on Tom's shoulder. He sighed mournfully.

"But that is my very problem. Even after realizing truths I still don't know where I should go next. I thought I knew, or I think I know, but then I feel guilty for thinking what I'm thinking and I don't want to feel guilty because I shouldn't _have_ to feel guilty for thinking my own thoughts and having my own opinion and making my own choices."

"No, you shouldn't." Tom agreed.

"Tom?"

"Harry?"

"I think I might be the villain in this story."

The older boy smiled. "We've all a little villain inside of us. I see no harm in indulging it now and then. Sometimes we _need_ to be the bad guy for a little while."

Harry sat up and looked at Tom. "Really?"

Tom nodded. "Some of us are born to be rebellious. To break rules and bend laws and do things we shouldn't be able to do. It wouldn't do to let things like Time and Death and Fate get too cocky."

"But a villain Tom! I'm not supposed to be the villain."

"Do you _want_ to be the villain?"

He chewed his lip. "Yes, actually."

"Then be the villain. Besides, the story is only as good as its villain."

"I best be a good one then."

"Tom?"

"Little Pretty?" Harry made a face.

"Is it possible the perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe got so boring that eating the Apple was justified?"

"That is a dangerous question Harry."

"It's a dangerous world Tom."

Tom smirked. "That it is."

"I am part of what makes it dangerous now, aren't I?"

"You always were. But yes. And soon, even more so. Now you are dangerous because you're making choices. Soon you will be dangerous because others will_ know_ you are making choices. And then, your choices will start affecting other people more than you'd known they would, and you'll continue making them anyway. That's when they'll realize they should have been afraid."

Harry twisted his sleeve. "I liked it. Before. When they scattered about me like cockroaches because they thought I was you. I thought it was so funny."

"You're allowed to find it funny Little Pretty."

He swallowed. " I know."

"They didn't care about _your_ feelings did they?"

"No."

"It's just the Golden Rule. Treat others as you wish to be treated right? You are only doing as they've asked."

Harry smiled. "I like that."

"Thank you."

They sat quietly for a moment.

"Harry?"

"Tom?"

"It is alright to be yourself. You know. Even if they don't like it."

The younger boy didn't say anything so Tom continued.

"If knowing yourself and being yourself were as easy to do as to talk about and preach, there wouldn't be so many people walking around in borrowed postures, spouting second-hand ideas, trying desperately to fit in. All of them? They're all trying to find themselves too."

"It isn't that I want to fit in really...it is that I want to be accepted for what I am. I wish to belong in spite of it. I wish to be worthy of friendship and admiration even if I don't want to be the hero. Even if I am imperfect and make bad choices and sometimes I'd like to sleep in rather than get up and fight dragons."

"You are already worthy of admiration Little Pretty. To strive to be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you into something else is a great accomplishment. You don't get medals for it or a front page of the newspaper. People don't name their children after you for it. But it is great all the same."

Harry pinched Tom.

"Fuck. What was that for you insolent little kitten?"

"Kitten? Really?"

"You'e a cat aren't you? Being a Gryffindor?"

"Lions have cubs."

"So do wolves."

Harry grinned. "I like wolves."

Tom smacked the back of Harry's head. "Why did you pinch me little monster?"

"I wasn't sure you were you. You don't sound insane at all." Both of Tom's brows rose.

"Why should I be insane?"

Harry shrugged. "You want to take over the world don't you?"

"No." Said Tom. "I want to change the world."

"I'd prefer to rule it I think. I don't care for changing it really, only as far as I need to to influence people. I'd really like to be it's King though. Or Emperor, that sounds more impressive."

"Why?"

"To throw it in their faces. So they can look up from their knees and think of all the things they didn't do properly in regard to me and then wonder if I remember them and if I do what shall become of them. I want to see that look on their faces. One by one."

"What_ shall_ you do with them?"

Harry ran fingers through his hair, as he'd seen Draco do, and raised his chin. "I have absolutely no idea. Make them cry perhaps."

"Cursing makes people cry."

Harry thought about it. "Cursing like swearing or cursing like _Avada Kedavra?_"

"Both, actually. You've got to choose your moments. Like funerals. Or Christenings."

"Christenings?"

"Yes. Of Princes or Princesses when their parents have wronged you."

"...was that a fairy tale reference?"

"Maybe."

"You are so twisted."

Tom hummed noncommittally. "Have you come to terms with the decisions you'd made before I came in here and forced you to acknowledge them?"

"...yes."

"Then, I suppose, we've climbed over the wall that is innocence and finally glimpsed the other side."

Harry nodded slowly, puffing hair through his bangs. "I am not certain I prefer this view to none at all."

"You should have thought of that before you let your curiosity get the better of you." The future Dark Lord pointed out, shrugging.

"Perhaps. But I look so cool when I twirl my wand!"

He grabbed Tom's sleeve when the other boy made to stand. "You can be a villain too. If you want. I don't mind sharing the role."

Tom smirked and pat his head. "I think I'll keep you."


	14. Breakdown

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

Warnings: Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Darkness_

_Fear is ever-changing and evolving_

_I've been poisoned inside but I, I feel so alive_

_Nobody can save me now, the only sound is the battle cry_

_Nobody can save me now, no_

* * *

No matter how interesting your day was or how far you went along your journey, when you are a child you still have to go home eventually. Even when that home was a room with bars on the window and a locked door and aunts who weren't really your aunts, with dogs who wanted very much to maul you. So he was back in his room and pacing and annoyed and wanting to be anywhere but there. It's remarkable how boring a room with six locks can be when you've discovered treachery, made alliances and bantered with a dark lord all in one day. Things like rooms that are prisons and food that is questionable becomes a lot less exciting in comparison. Of course if the food should be poisoned that might liven things up. Not for Harry but for someone somewhere surely.

It just seemed like a bit of a let down to all the madness of the day. He'd even spent a few hours debating things with Tom and reading Slytherin's private journals. Not one person from this house had noticed his absence. If he had any guarantee they'd continue along those lines he might never have come back. As it is he was supposed to stick around to garner more infor off Dumbledore and his mysterious reasoning for keeping him here. But honestly, couldn't something happen to make it a bot more bearable? A mad house elf perhaps? Mass murderers breaking into the kitchen and demanding pudding? A frickin' working television? _Something._

He rescinded his previous thought and everything about it when he was forced downstairs for a 'family' meal, or a mock Harry merrily while getting utterly sloshed session as it could be more accurately described. This was not what Harry had in mind when he found his room boring.

He stared up at the celieing where is room would be.

"I've insulted it and now it's punished me." He whispered sadly.

Harry made up for the potentially tedious motions of 'insult Harry time' accidentally, by being so adorable in his new image that Aunt Marge took a strange liking to him. It was strange not because she liked him, though that was strange for Harry, it was strange because she showed her affection by insulting him accidentally. She slandered his parents to her calorie ridden heart's content, all the while patting his cheek, as he was made to sit beside her, and telling him how wonderful it was he was growing out of his odd stage and how lovely he was turning out. She then praised Uncle Vernon for his choice in schooling for Harry but apparently was concerned that it would be to harsh for one as delicate as him. This delicate business was all Draco's fault He didn't know how, and yes it was illogical, but he blamed the blonde for it anyway. It was a massive blow to his manhood to be called delicate.

What boy dreamed of growing up and being pretty or fragile or delicate? None of them! Why couldn't he be dashing or rugged or swarthy or something that sounded masculine all on it's own?

In order to remedy the numbness of his reddening cheek from all the pinching, and embarrassment of being called things like sweet and cute by his Uncle's sister, Harry took matters into his own hands. Namely by keeping Marge's glass as full as possible with alcohol. One hour later and she was very drunk indeed. Harry waited for it. And waited for it. Then he saw his chance.

"The boy isn't off the road yet Marge. Look at him! He's a pansy that's what. It's a disgrace. He needs that school Marge. They'll toughen him up a bit there."

Harry was actually quite offended by this. He made certain to let Marge see his dramatic tears.

"They'll do no such thing!" Marge bellowed. "I'll not have those vulgar men touching my nephew. Harry is the sensitive sort, you ought to have him in an art school or some such Vernon."

The young wizard watched gleefully as the muggle-battle raged, twirling his knife, ignoring his meal entirely.

"Honestly Marge, a child of five could understand what I meant." Growled Vernon.

The large woman turned to Harry. "Fetch me a child of five!"

He looked around the room. "Mentally or physically?"

Marge clapped him on the back then pounded on the table. "See? That there! He's got a mind in there Vernon. He shouldn't be wasting it!"

"My money is not a waste Marge."

She flailed both hands in frustration, sloshing wine. "He should be learning literature or painting or an instrument like a proper gentleman."

"What...have you...done...?" Asked Dudley, who'd found the sight interesting enough to turn away from the Telly.

Harry waved him off. "Shh. Now is the time for senseless bickering."

"But why?" Dudley blinked dull eyes. Not the sort of dull Donovan had. The sneaky sort that caught you off guard with the cunning beneath. This was a more honest and sad sort of dull.

Harry stared. "100,000 and you were the fastest huh?"

"What're you talking about freak?" Asked Dudley, who knew enough to know when he was being insulted.

Sometimes.

"I don't have enough time to explain it to you. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?"

Petunia kicked Harry beneath the table.

"You'll regret this when she's finally left next week you know." His aunt informed him from the corner of her mouth, eyeing the stains on her floor bitterly.

"Madame, I only have it in me to dread one day at a time."

She didn't answer. Harry didn't know if it was because she couldn't feel bothered to answer or if it was because she was envisioning the products needed to get wine out of a white rug. In Harry's opinion she ought to dye it red and be done with it. Aunt Marge had more than enough blood in her bloated veins to make it happen.

Harry paused. He really needed to arrange a visit to a therapist. It needed to be on a list highlighted somewhere. This might be one of those secret things that you didn't strive to hide from the world but from yourself. No one needed to know the depths of his mental instability, not even himself.

So the time passed and Marge waved her glass around, wine sloshed, the dog barked and yapped, Vernon insulted and argued, Dudley stared at the telly vacantly and Petunia counted the days to Marge's departure. It was a lovely meal. The best he could remember having at number four Privet Drive. At eight that night Marge and Vernon were arrested for having a fist fight on the front lawn in front of the neighbors to Petunia's horror.

At nine that night he was thrown out the front door with his belongings and a warning to keep away the rest of the holiday. Harry couldn't imagine a better way to end the day.

Still, the carpets would look lovely red.


	15. To the left, To the left

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings**: Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_It's in the way you sell every word and phrase, leaving me to know how much the meaning weighs_

_Saying that but meaning this, using your hands for emphasis_

_There's that smile again, you fake it and I follow you right in_

_What a fool_

* * *

The Night Bus was glorious. Why hadn't anyone told him about this? Was it a conspiracy? He'd never heard of it before, it was loads better than floo powder! An endless experiment in the realm of chance. The ultimate gamble. Would everyone live tonight? Would the little lady on the street get plastered to the front of the bus and scrape along the ground? Would the persons riding the bus smack against the windows a bit too hard and leaving a terrifying impression in the glass? Faster and faster, darting in and out of traffic and around buildings in a variety of improbably ways.

Harry stared out the front window of the bus in fascination. "So many pedestrians...so little time."

Draco, who'd come to collect him when Harry sent an owl informing him of his need for collecting, looked amused. "Enjoying ourself are we?"

Harry nodded dreamily, watching people nearly get flattened again and again.

The conductor type person, Stan maybe, grinned. "Tis not often we get ones that like it like we do. Especially at ten at night. "

Harry sent him a beaming smile. "I think it is the best mode of transportation ever invented."

Stan slapped him on the back. "You'll have to come work the routes with me someday. You'd like that?"

The Gryffindor clasped his hands together, eyes sparkling. "_Would _I!"

Draco snickered behind him at the blush creeping up Stan's neck. the man was properly smug now, puffing up and soaking in the attention to his work. Probably the only time anyone had ever properly appreciated it. "Is that what you'd like to do for your profession Harry? _Heir Conductor?_" Teased the blonde.

"No." Said Harry. "I have other plans."

Stan smiled. "T'aint proper for a proper fellow like this one anyway. If I had a fine house name I'd like to open me a transport house. Y'know, with magical bikes and skateboards and things, like the muggles have."

Harry bounced on his feet. "That's a swell idea!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I intend on researching rare plants for potions and maybe dabble in Alchemy. Until I claim Lordship of course."

"I'd like a signed copy if you write a book about it." Said Stan, seriously.

The blonde Slytherin gave his first real smile. "I'd be sure to get you one."

"I'd like to have my own green houses to experiment with cross breeding rare and endangered plant life." Said a boy with dark blond hair in the bed near Harry.

"Neville?" Asked Harry, standing on his tiptoes and leaning over the bed.

"Hi Harry."

"Neville!" He gave his fellow Gryffindor a hug, leaping on to the bed with his feet dangling.

The shy student flustered slightly and cleared his throat. "Nice to see you too Harry."

"You're in a good mood." said Draco suspiciously. "What have you done?"

Harry smirked. "I'll never tell."

"I'd like a flying carpet, if we're all putting our opinions in the pot." Said a dark haired kid in the bed beside Nevile.

"I'd like to have the heart of a powerful, respected, secretly manipulative wizard." Added Harry.

Stan perked up. "Is that your ambition then? For when you grow up?"

"What? _Merlin no_. I'd just like to have it in a jar on my desk to peer in at from time to time. My ambitions are far more... eccentric."

It was silent for a moment.

Draco gave the small boy a hug. "I have no idea what I did for entertainment before you came along."

"Tortured house elves and insulted me behind my back?" Suggested Harry.

"A bit." Draco admitted.

Neville sat up around Harry, who was still in his lap. "Do you still?"

Harry's eyes widened.

"_Do you _still talk about me behind my back?"

Draco crossed his arms, insulted. "Of course not Harry. Now that we're friends I'll do the honorable thing and insult you to your face."

The dark haired boy who wanted a flying carpet and wasn't interested in introducing himself snorted. "That's noble?"

"Tis the mark of true friendship." Stan said. The boy looked dubious.

Draco smiled and gave a nod. "That's right you know. True friends stab you in the _front!_"

"I think I'd stab from the left." Harry said, tilting his head to the left and pondering the direction.

The blonde raised a brow. "Why the left?"

"Why not the left?"

"...Fair enough."

"So, then, I'd stab from the left. It's decided."

"But we know now, don't we?" Asked flying carpet boy.

Neville furrowed his brows. "Isn't that point of stabbing in the front though Darren? To make it fair? So you see it coming?"

"Yes and besides, if someone tells you they're gonna stab you from the left and you don't feel it necessary to keep watch on the left from now on- well it's you're own fault for getting stabbed isn't it?" Harry sniffed.

"I suppose."

_"We shouldn't be stabbing anyone at all!" _Shouted flying carpet boy, henceforth Darren, at the top of his God-damned lungs.

Everyone jumped. Harry pressed a hand to his chest and glared.

"You'd prefer cursing them then?" Asked Neville, curiously.

Draco straightened up and examined the new boy with a little more interest.

"What? No!"

"No? Then how _would _you off someone?"

"Well I suppose I'd- wait I'm not getting involved in this sort of conversation."

"He's right you know." Said Stan. "If you really want to succeed at it you probably shouldn't tell anyone."

"Thats Slytherin Stan!"

"It happens to the best of us."

Draco scowled. "There's nothing wrong with being a little Slytherin now and then. You lot could use it."

The bus stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron, where all of them were going, and Stan's mood noticeably dampened when he waved goodbye.

"Hey, isn't that a Weasely?"

Harry turned. An older boy leaned against the outside of the pub, reading a book. He wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for the hair. "Percy?"

The boy lowered his book. "Harry? What are you doing here?"

"I got kicked out, you?"

Percy blinked but didn't comment. "We came back from Ginny's death rites yesterday. Mum and Dad decided we should stay here until school starts. They have a lot of running around to do anyway. I think Mum want's to stay busy so she doesn't think about it."

"Oh." Harry cocked his head as they all started inside. "I like what you've done with your hair. It's cool. All spiky."

"His hair is cold?" Asked Darren, confused.

Percy felt his hair, bemused.

"Dead people are cold." Said Nevile, opening the door. Silence.

"Well, they _are_." He muttered.

Harry shrugged and took a seat. "He's not wrong."

"Unless they're poisoned." Percy said, knowledgeably. "Then they're sort of lukewarm because it takes such a long time for them to die and for the blood to coagulate."

"And you know what they say! The quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Harry said, putting in his order.

Nevile put in his order as well, then turned to Harry. "That's a lie."

"Oh?"

"It's through his chest. With an Axe. What sort of mutant people have you been killing?"

"I don't know Neville..." said Harry, slowly, "What sort of people have _you _been killing?"

Plates were on the table before them, food smells drifting along, their stomaches groaning in relief. "Toast." Said Neville, taking a bite.

Draco stared. "...what."

"Toast. Toast is delicious."

Harry patted the odd boy on the head. "That it is Neville."

"Ever notice they don't have anything fun on the menu?"

"Like what Darren?"

Darren tugged at his hair and sighed. "Oh I don't know. Pudding maybe, or ice cream. Smoothies?"

"Spaghetti." Put in Draco.

"Hot Dogs."

"Hot-"

"-Dogs?" Asked the twins, sitting at the table.

"A sort of sausage on a stick surrounded by bread." Explained Harry.

"Muggles are strange creatures."

"I like dogs but I wouldn't keep one as a pet." Said Nevile half an hour later.

"Why not?" Asked Draco, once he'd gotten over the randomness of the comment.

"Dogs are for cowards who haven't the guts to bite people themselves." Commented Harry.

"You're a delicious sort of special Harry." Said Fred.

"The tastiest." Said George.

"I'm much too young for cannibalism. I'd suggest someone more matured."

"Nuts." Said George, smiling.

"Foiled." Said Fred.

"Grilled?" Suggested Neville, eying Harry thoughtfully.

Harry smacked him on the head with his book. "Bad Neville."

"Yes, little red heads are much better for grilling." Said Draco, staring at Ron, who'd joined them a few minutes earlier, pointedly.

Everyone laughed but for Ron, who wasn't at all sure that they were kidding. Hey, Slytherins got up to all kinds of evil things didn't they? Who knows.

"Harry. You're a bit dark, you know? Dark, but sweet." Said Draco, messing up Harry's hair.

Harry huffed and tried to flatten it back down. He needed to straighten it again.

"Chocolate..." Muttered Percy, who rose and left without explanation.

"Not going to throw a fit about me sitting at the same table then?" Asked Ron after another hour of sleep deprived conversation. Mrs Weasley had ordered them all to bed three times now. After hearing the last conversation she hadn't come back down.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'd forgotten you were even there."

"Git." Muttered Ron.

"Aw, we're all together and no one's died yet!" Harry cooed.

They said their good nights soon after, each going to their own rooms. Harry was rooming with Draco since he was the one with the money and he'd only gotten one room. He might have regretted it when Harry mentioned needing to arrange a session with a therapist then started snuggling him like a teddy bear.

It was an excellent ending to a fantastically odd adventure.


	16. Like Candy

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Don't leave me alone, cause I can barely see at all_

_Don't leave me alone _

_I'm falling in the __black, s__lipping through the cracks, falling to the depths I can never go back_

_Can you hear me?_

_Falling in the black, slipping through the cracks_

_Falling inside, falling inside_

_The black_

* * *

This was one of the strangest nights of Draco's life, and really that was saying something. It hadn't started out strange, in fact it had been boring. Not much went on, he read a few books his godfather sent him, signed a few forms for Harry's thirteenth birthday celebration, received a kiss from his mother and a pat on the shoulder from his father for work well done. Then he'd retired to his room to draw. He hadn't expected a snowy owl, that he immediately recognized, to start pecking at his window like the hounds of Hell were after her. Nor had he expected a request for rescue.

Draco grinned and shook his head. "You're a bit dark, you know? Dark, but sweet." He said, messing up his small friend's hair.

The Gryffindor gave him a glare and a huff and meticulously smoothed down his raven locks. And people thought Draco was vain.

"Chocolate..." Muttered the older Weasley, who then left without another word.

Draco stared. Gingers were insane. Not Harry insane, legitimately in need of healing potions insane. There was a difference. Harry had selective, reality-sucks-so-I'm-going-to-go-on-holiday-for-a-bit madness. The Weasleys? They had their own little corner of crazy all to themselves.

"Not going to throw a fit about me sitting at the same table then?" Sneered the Weasel.

Draco was going to ignore his existence as long as the annoying boy did the same out of respect for their loss, but he was making it hard for Draco. He sighed and rolled his silver eyes. "I'd forgotten you were even there."

There, he didn't even mention the word poor.

"Git." Muttered the Weasel.

"Aw, we're all together and no one's died yet!"

"Yet." Whispered Draco. "Yet."

Either Harry didn't hear or he pretended he didn't. Hard to tell when the small boy was in one of these moods.

By unanimous telepathic vote they decided it was time for bed. Probably for the best as the longer the night went on the stranger their conversations became. Draco sent Harry along to their room while he shrunk his trunk and picked up their books. He found his way up the stairs blocked. It was the Weasel. A quick glance around and he saw they were alone downstairs in the now ominous flickering candle light. The only sound muted arguing from the mother and father Weasel in a room off to the side. Draco cursed, held his books against a hip and raised a brow.

"Well? Can I...help you?"

"Why are you being so nice to Harry Malfoy? I thought you were waiting for your father and passing the time slumming it. Now, suddenly, you're on speaking terms with Neville and making jokes with Percy? I didn't even know Percy joked! What are you doing?"

"Oh I didn't tell you? That must mean it's none of your business. As far as your brother goes I think it's sad that you don't know your own sibling well enough to see that he makes jokes frequently, they're just sarcastic and as such a good staircase above your level of conversational intelligence. Longbottom and I have known each other far longer than you and he have known each other and if I wish to tease him or I wish to be polite is entirely my own prerogative and between myself and him. He is more than capable of handling it himself, in his own quiet way, and you embarrass him when you interfere."

The Weasel stared, momentarily stunned.

"Furthermore, as Harry's _first companion_, it is my duty to help him where he requires it. As such we are renting a room here for tonight. Anything other than that you need to get from Harry. It isn't my business to share."

"First companion..."

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out the newly goblin forged Potter/Malfoy companionship agreement coin. He waved it in the air before the other boy's eyes.

"Everyone hates you." The read haired boy exploded, frustrated at not getting a rise out of Draco. "Some of them suck up to you and some of them are polite to your face but _everyone _hates you."

"Yes. And I cry about it everyday." The Slytherin pointed at his face, "See the tears?"

The Weasel glared. Articulation wasn't his strong point.

"Anything else? No? Enjoy restful isochronic waves Weasel."

Draco marched passed him and up the stairs. Who did that soulless prat think he was?

He opened the door and saw Harry pacing inside muttering to himself. Draco took a breath, settled the books on the little table beside the bed, unshrunk the trunk in the corner and stalked forward. He grasped the other boy by a shoulder and turned him to face him.

"Alright. Tell me whats the matter."

"What?"

"Something is wrong. Something upset you. You were fine in the morning, what's changed since then? Not that I don't find nonsense entertaining, but you delve into it like this when reality is something you don't feel like dealing with. Obviously there is something. Let's not forget you needed to be picked up after having been thrown out of your home. So. Talk."

"You can't tell what I say according to your companionship oath right?"

Draco rolled his eyes_. "Yes."_

Harry puffed a breath through his bangs, nodded and sat on the floor with his back to the wall, arms around his knees. Draco sat beside him.

"It's silly really. My Aunt Marge came to visit. She isn't really my Aunt, she's Vernon's, that's my Aunt's husband, Vernon's sister. Normally she hates me. They'll force me to sit at dinner with them so they can watch her make all these comments and about me and my parents. She'll explain everything that's satisfactory about my cousin Dudley and then go on to explain, in detail, why I fail to meet the same marks. My looks or my way of talking or my attitude or, and this is her favorite, my breeding. She breeds dogs you see. Everything is blood to her. Not like it is to you though. No, she thinks I ought to have been drowned at birth. But today was strange. She thought I was cute. And then, like none of the things she'd done to me before had every happened, she suddenly favoured me. Just like that. No apologies or anything, just an abrupt change form insults to smiles because suddenly I was acceptable. And in that moment I wanted to kill her. I wanted to kill them all. I wanted to hurt them. I wanted them to feel the way I feel everyday when I'm with them. And it sucked because there was no way they'd ever understand. They'd never be able to see it that way and they'll never apologize. My whole world revolved around restraining myself from retaliating. Then she pinched my cheek." Harry shuddered.

"Then...?'

Harry coughed and averted his eyes.

"Harry?"

"I may have gotten her drunk. And then might have encouraged an argument between her and Vernon that ended in a fist fight in the front yard where everyone could see."

Draco tried to hold his laugh in. It failed spectacularly.

Harry started laughing beside him. "Yeah. I could have handled that better."

He snorted. "In a variety of ways Harry."

"Hush. I was traumatized. I hate her, you know? I hate them. I wanted them to be humiliated. I wanted them to fight. To feel bad. And the carpet would look good red. It would. And I was tired and I just found out about some things, and then you and I were in Gringotts and then I was with a friend of mine and I was deciding my whole future and _dammit I wanted the carpets red."_

"Paint the roses red." Recited Draco.

"Marge Red." Said Harry.

"Loathed Relative Red. That's the best sort."

Harry grinned. "Tis the privilege of friendship is to talk nonsense and have nonsense returned."

"Well," said Draco, "we _are_ friends now, aren't we?"

The small Gryffindor blinked. "Yes, I suppose we are."

"Then go on and speak your nonsense Harry, when the world is too much for you, and I shan't judge you for it. I shall even join in. We can all use a good holiday in nonsense once in a while, even Malfoys."

Harry played with the edges of his pajamas, starting and stopping a sentence before he said. "I don't think I'm a good person Draco."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I don't think the way a good person should, or do what they should do. I ought to forgive my relatives and then move on when I'm old enough. I thought I came to terms with it, but I guess I haven't."

"Err is human. To forgive just because you should is plain stupid. We're human Harry, even the muggles. And we hurt each other. We hurt people we care for and we hurt people we dislike. It's a part of being human. I'm sure the Weasel and the book worm have hurt you before. I've hurt you before and now we're friends of all things. People are going to hurt you Harry, you just have to sort through the mess and figure out which are worth suffering for. And then of course which are worth the small fortune it costs to have proper voodoo dolls made of them so they can suffer the rest of their lives for betraying your trust and hurting you in the first place. Tis only fair. "

They sat together in the quiet for a while. Neither of them saying anything, just sitting beside one another and understanding each other's secret shadows beneath their words. Things they'd never bring up.

The arguing from downstairs became louder.

"Ah. White noise."

Draco smacked the back of Harry's head. "It's two-thirty in the morning, stop being so positive."

"I regret to inform you but a damn cannot be given at this time."

"Maybe you ought to consider restocking."

"I regret to inform you, but the psyche ward isn't accepting suggestions at this time."

Draco laughed. "Alright, I think you need to sleep the crazy off. I'll go get another room so you can, I don't know, feel safe to be upset I suppose."

Harry shrugged and jumped into the bed.

"Draco?"

"Yes Harry?"

"I need to make an appointment with a therapist at some point, okay? Don't let me forget. Remind me in the morning."

"What is a-"

Harry pulled him down onto the bed, brought up the blanket and snuggled close to him like he was Draco Malfoy Teddy Bear. "Night Draco."

Draco pretended to huff irritably, turning his head to the side to hide a smile.

"Good night Harry."

_My odd, broken little Gryffindor._


	17. TMI

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Take a breath, hold it in, don't start a fight you won't win_

_Now you turn the tide on me 'cause you're so unkind_

_You're the devil in disguise, I'm the one you left behind_

_So I'll find what lies beneath your sick twisted smile_

_As I lie underneath your cold jaded eyes_

* * *

Now that Draco was sufficiently fashioned into his own personal protector Harry found his life becoming ever more entertaining. There were terrifying bits, like guest lists and memorization of names and paper work to go through at Gringotts in very uncomfortable chairs, but the better parts made up for it. Watching Ron and Draco pretend the other didn't exist at meals what great fun. The Weaselys had decided Draco must be decent if Harry was willing to be around him and so didn't bother him much. Bless them.

In fact Mrs Weasely had hugged him several times after she learned he was an only child. Harry thought she was displacing her grief for her only daughter and focusing on smothering another child to fill the void left in her heart.

Draco thought she wanted to crush him to death.

Tom was displeased that Harry wasn't able to stay with him in the Chamber but he had to concede when Harry pointed out everyone would want to know where he was staying and not telling them would certainly raise some flags. The last thing they needed was someone investigating the muggles back at Privet Drive.

Tom reckoned he could turn on the water works and get out of it but Harry wanted to use his cuteness sparingly. If he did it too many times Draco would start to catch on that he was being played and that just wouldn't do. Tom could wait. Harry needed to carefully build an image of himself in the eyes of the Malfoys. After a while they would fill in the blanks on their own and continue to see him as this character even when he slipped. Tom knew this too of course, since he'd been the one to teach these techniques to Harry in the first place. The Gryffindor thought that Tom might be lonely, but the older boy would admit no such thing.

That was okay, Harry knew he was just a big sociopathic teddy bear on the inside.

Having Draco as first companion was beneficial in a myriad of ways, the most important, to Harry, being that Harry could look to him before doing anything and follow his lead. He took Draco's advice for seating arrangements, physical proximity, terms of address. Anything that might inadvertently get him sold to somebody as willing potions ingredients. Draco took all of this in his expected, smug sort of way and everyone thought it was Harry showing respect for his new confidant. None of them realized that Harry didn't have a dammed clue what he was doing. He still didn't know all the details of his first mess with Draco, other than companionship, and frankly he was hoping everyone else present at the time would forget all about it so he'd never have to find out.

Preparation for the celebration of his thirteenth birthday was even more convoluted and resulted in almost constant note taking in Tom's diary. Out of the two of them only Tom had an insane memory of ridiculous recall. Harry had to memorize concepts and then wing it as he went along unless Tom told him what to do or Draco was around for him to copy. The Malfoys were coming under the impression he was a secret Ravenclaw. There were worse things he supposed.

Like lessons. Harry hadn't known prior to this, and indeed still didn't desire to know, that the cut of one's clothing, the colours chosen and their shade and placement and material were all chosen carefully according to your status, the beliefs and image you wished to portray and anything else you wanted people to know about you without asking. Were you from an old family? Did you have dark affiliations or neutral affiliations? Were you independent politically or were you a ministry boot licker? Or were you an independent who wanted to be portrayed as a boot licker in such a way other independents might know you were faking? It was a huge secret code wide out in the open and you could only understand if you were in the right club.

For instance the Hogwarts basic uniforms were all the shame shapeless cut, colour and material. On purpose. This way after you have been house affiliated you can start adding your own touches to the uniform. Runes along the seams for general cleanliness, anti-wrinkle charms and minor hex repellent, coloured stitching to denote your family or clan, altered cuts to show your status within your family or within the wizarding world or both. It was all there and now that he was learning it he was picking it up as he followed Draco around Diagon Alley and even through Gringotts. Harry could tell with a glance who was a supporter of Voldemort, who supported Dumbledore, who approved of the ministry, who was from old money or was married recently or available for betrothal contracts.

Draco gleefully told him that while most purebloods and even half bloods were instructed in the bare minimum of how the system worked, the older the family, clan or house you belonged to the more you knew. The Malfoy family specifically made it a habit throughout their history to befriend and learn the secret codes of every family they met. They knew it for foreign courts and ministries, for dark magical creatures that were human like, such as the Vella courts, the Elfin courts, the Demon courts and so on. Which explained how Draco always seemed to know _everything_ about _everyone._

Harry was gaining that knowledge, but he had to walk a fine line between clever child with political potential, and _clever child with political potential_. Was he an asset or a threat? He didn't believe for a minute the Malfoys were enamored enough with him to keep him alive out of fondness should they realize he wasn't quiet as sweet and naive as he made out.

"Done."

Harry stepped off a stool and stood patiently while Draco circled around him in the vulture-like way all Malfoys apparently felt was necessary.

"It'll do." The blonde sniffed.

Harry wanted to throttle him. He hadn't spent the entire day getting fitted for two bloody outfits just to have the taller boy decide 'it would do'. He refrained though, because Harry imagined the elder Malfoy would be a tad distressed to find his heir dead on the floor.

Pity.

"Come along Harry." He allowed the blonde to pull him along by the hand, indulging in his need to show off his new companionship status to any and everyone they might meet. It amused him.

They walked down the alley, Harry seeing how many clothing codes he could decipher, until they reach Gringotts.

"Ready?" The Slytherin asked, turning to look at him.

Harry nodded, though his heart was pounding inside. Today was the day they tried to unseal his parents Wills.


	18. And One More Thing

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_I may seem crazy or painfully shy, a__nd these scars wouldn't be so hidden if you would just look me in the eye_

_I feel alone and cold here though I don't want to die, b__ut the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything_

_Kills inside_

* * *

Draco watched his new friend carefully. They'd come a long way this summer from where they used to be and he'd learned things he hadn't known about the smaller boy. Enough to feel jealous at times at the way the boy seemed so prepared for everything that happened to him or around him, even the flight into madness he'd gone on a few days before, and how easily he manipulated people into wanting to do things for him. Every single store they went something was thrown in for free or the total price was cut down because '_you're so adorable'. _He was jealous but he also respected it. This boy was nothing at all like the Gryffindor he was used to interacting with at school, and honestly Draco didn't act the way he did at school when he was with his friends in private either. It was just his mask, his public persona. How _delicious_ that one of Dumbledore's supposed golden pawns could be so layered and devious? Well pawn no more, he amended.

Harry sat beside him, as the boy requested every time they went anywhere important for Draco to sit beside him which emphasized the Draco's status as his first companion and was a source of endless smugness for Draco when whomever they were doing business with that day would grow very stiff and uneasy. There would be _no_ hoodwinking a companion of a Malfoy. Not without consequences.

His little friend knew it too, he'd never met such a fast learner. Harry allowed Draco to do most of the talking and arranging after informing him what he thought he wanted or needed. Which in turn was a display of trust to those who knew to look for such things. And the there was the casual intimacy. Rather than just hold hands he would sometimes wrap his arms around Draco's left arm and allow the other boy to lead him around like he was a younger sibling, or he'd take liberties with Draco's person, reaching to pockets to look at watches or get a galleon or a quick sweet from the ever expanding bag tied to Draco's belt.

_Public Displays of Favor._

While the people they were doing business with bound by secrecy, Draco could almost literally _see_ how badly they wanted to run to the alley and tell everyone they saw. After all, they had negotiations of friendships, a companionship agreement and with the displays of favor it was quite obvious they could be looking at an official alliance when both boys reached maturity. And that would be one Hell of a powerful alliance and utterly unprecedented in modern times. A house of _neutral magicks _and a house of _gray magicks _allied? Not to mention they both had Black blood running through them, a _dark aligned _house.

Draco couldn't blame them for staring.

Now, as they sat once more in the Head Manager's office in Gringotts, Draco found himself feeling quite protective of his new friend, and outraged on his behalf.

"What do you mean they can't be unsealed? He is the only heir to the House of Potter, he's been accepted by the heir ring, his thirteenth birthday and presentation to magic is in a week. He needs to see the will at least to have his heirship requirements, which may I reiterate, he'll need to have in one week."

Normally Draco would give more respect towards the goblin, as it was the lead manager of the bank, however as Harry's first companion it was his duty and right to defend his companion's estate, legacy and well being by _any_ means he deemed necessary. Showing his displeasure was more than allowable at the current moment. He was entirely in the right and by the uneasy glimmer in the goblins eyes - he knew it.

The goblin raised a hand. "Peace Heir Malfoy. You can see the Will's contents but I can not give you that permission. The Wills..." He trailed off looking very much like he wished some other goblin was lead manager and he himself could be elsewhere.

Draco glanced at Harry. His face was perfectly and eerily blank, betraying nothing. He fixed the Goblin with the trademark Malfoy icy stare.

"Speak."

The goblin nodded, pushing the large envelope containing the Will or Wills toward Draco with a somewhat shaky hand. What in Morgana's name was going on?

"The Wills remain active."

Draco stared at the three glowing names written outside the envelope, utterly lost for words.

"What...what does that mean? Draco?"

He held up a finger, requesting a minute to gather his thoughts. This wasn't a situation he'd been prepared for. In all of his training nothing like this ever came up. It was just so unlikely. Draco knew a bit of what Harry's life was like with the muggles, from things the boy said and things he did. He knew that Harry had been kept from his legacy and denied access to his heirship rights by his magical guardian Albus Dumbledore. How did he deal this small, inky headed boy, who'd quickly become a friend, what would surely be another blow against his shaky guarded walls? The closed, gated air that was always around him? How did he add another link to the fence?

He cleared his throat gently and turned to give his friend his full attention.

"Harry, a will is only active as long as at least one of the entities responsible for its creation are accessible. As long as it is active it can still be changed or altered between now and the entity's...cessation of living. We can not open it because, essentially it is not closed. There are any number of reasons for this. It could be a mistake of course or it could be under specific guidelines we can not know because we can not see what lays inside-"

Emerald eyes fixated on him with an intensity that took a good deal of willpower not to turn away from. "You will say that again, and you will say it so I know exactly what you mean. No open ended interpretations."

Draco gave a curt nod.

"There are three names on the label of the envelop for the Wills Harry. Your mother, your father and one other. This is done for many reasons. It could mean that your family chose to have a surrogate mother because Lily Potter would not or could not produce an heir. It could mean you were produced...outside of their marriage. Your legal parents being Lily and James Potter but either your _biologica_l mother or father being someone else. You could have been adopted. The list goes on. What is more important, is that it remains _active_. At least one of the people whose name is on the envelope..." he trailed off, steeled himself and took a breath.

Draco grasped both of Harry's hands in his own and squeezed.

"Harry one of them is still living."


	19. It's all in Vein

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak_

_I am such a freak_

_These things they haunt my mind, think about them all the time_

_How many times can you look me in the eye, tell me everything is fine?_

_When I know it's not_

_I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak_

_I am such a freak_

* * *

"Who?" His voice was tad more hoarse than he'd of liked but neither Draco nor the goblin acknowledged it if it was noticeable.

Draco squeezed his hands again. "Are you certain you wish to know?"

Harry swallowed down an alarming amount of self-pity and wishful thinking.

"No. But I must know none-the-less. There are too many variables to let an unknown exist without any knowledge on them. If one of my parents..or whatever...is still alive, then I need to know. And I think I deserve to know why I haven't been living with them, if it is safe to demand such answers. Were they uninterested? Did they decide they were disinclined to assume responsibility of The-Boy-Who-Lived? Were they aware of my living situation?" He squeezed Draco's hands in return, released them and gave him a calm smile.

"I must know. I must know all of it. Living ten years without knowing about the magical world, nearly thirteen without knowing about my legacy...that's more than enough secrecy for me. I see no reason to continue to allow gaps in my knowledge of myself."

He would have continued if Draco didn't seem like he was about to have fit. Pale fingers grasped his shoulders and half shook him.

"What do you mean you didn't know about our world? You didn't know about magic?"

"I didn't think it was real. I didn't know about any of it until I got my letter-"

"But you knew about your parents didn't you? About The Dark Lord and everything?"

Harry felt a bit exasperated. "No I didn't, the bloody muggles didn't tell me anythi-"

"Nothing? You knew nothing?"

"_No. _I didn't know magic was real, in fact I was raised to believe that it didn't exist. And if I brought up anything close to it or if, if weird things happened around me I was beaten. Are you happy? I'm a _freak. _That's my family's point of view. Magic didn't exist. There are no _wizards_, no _magic wands_, no _flying brooms_, that's it. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Motorbikes don't fly Harry. How did you turn your teacher's wig blue Harry? No funny business Harry or it's _into the cupboard with you and no meals for a week_!"

Draco shook him a again, much harder. "Calm down. Now. Please don't make me kiss you again. There's been enough surprises for one day, let's not add making major lifestyle choices at age thirteen to the list, yeah?"

Harry deflated. "Yeah, sorry."

"Now, clearly this time, tell me. You knew nothing about the wizarding world or magic before first year and you were raised to believe such things weren't real? Yes or no?"

"Yes."

Draco swallowed uneasily. "Harry...that's bloody impossible."

He scrunched up his nose. "Why?"

"Why? Because, be-because..." The blonde spluttered for a bit. "Harry, how do you have such control over your powers if you knew nothing about them? Who trained you? How did you get through your core growths? Or learn to remain calm so you didn't get hurt, or hurt someone else, with your accidental magic? How on earth did you get so good at multi-casting? It shouldn't be possible. The only reason mu-muggleborns don't learn about the wizarding world sooner is because they have a dampener on their core that is released gradually during the sixth months prior to their enrollment first year, when they are being taught about our world. And that is under supervision during scheduled appointments at St. Mungos."

Harry didn't understand a whole lot of that. "Are you saying muggleborn students get informed sixth months prior to receiving their letter? What about muggle raised I-"

"Harry everyone who isn't raised by wizards and is approaching the appropriate age for schooling in their country is given an alloted time of as little as three months, in countries where the magical and non magical communities aren't as exclusive as here, or even up to a year before they come to school to get used to the idea and confirm they wish to become a part of the magical world. If you have a high enough magical core that you might receive an official letter for enrollment you are told so it isn't a shock that it might happen. No one finds out about it all when they get their letter, that's just the confirmation. And if they've been magic raised their family has already been looking for signs of accidental magicks long before then."

Alright. Now he was feeling _a lot_ more than nothing.

"So, why wasn't I informed? I didn't know until the day I got my letter, in the summer before I came to school Draco. I thought it was a prank."

Draco wiped a hand over his face, covered his mouth, took a deep breath and let it out.

"Harry there is something very strange going on here. You...I mean, haven't you..how can you..."

"You're not making any sense."

"Where did you learn to multi-cast?"

Harry drew a blank. "Multi-cast?"

"Yes. You know?"

Harry did not.

Draco growled in frustration. "You have to be kidding me. Harry, haven't you ever noticed your spoon stirring your tea for you in the great hall? Your goblet refilling with pumpkin juice on its own? Pages turning of their own accord in books you are reading? How doors open for you or how the temperature rises or falls after you, or someone near you, comments that it's a bit cold or too hot? Or a breeze blows? "

He could feel his jaw wide open, bit he didn't feel like correcting it. "What are you talking about?"

"You do it _all_ the time. When you're playing chess with the Weasel but you're more interested in the conversations around you, you don't even say anything or look at the board but the pieces still move. Something tilts and starts to fall around you? You fling out a hand in that general direction, again without looking, and it rights its self! Everyday and all the time. Constantly. That's multi-casting and it's very hard to do if it's not a blood trait, not to mention have control of it at our age without instruction. It requires an intimate knowledge of our magic and the structure of our magical cores, how they work together. Like learning to write or to dance. It takes a long time to get good penmanship or to be able to dance well off the top of your head doesn't it? You have to learn and perfect all the little baby steps it takes before it can become an unconscious thing your body just knows how to do."

"Great. Another thing to make me a freak. Just what I needed. I can't even be normal in a world with vampires and overgrown snakes that kill people with their eyes."

"Focus Harry. If you can do it this well, without training, then its definitely a blood trait."

"So?"

The goblin cleared it's throat. "Heir Potter what Heir Malfoy is trying to tell you, is that multi-casting as a blood trait is not in the Potter bloodline."

Harry really wished people would stop looking at him expectantly.

"Harry it means you didn't get it from James Potter. You can't have gotten it from Lily Potter either."

"Why not?"

"Blood traits are only available through bloodlines in direct descendants. For instance, my mother was born a Black, thus I have can inherit blood traits through the Black bloodline. My father was born a Malfoy, thus I can inherit Malfoy blood traits through the Malfoy bloodline. The point is, if neither my mother's nor my father's bloodlines could, say, perform the animagus transformation, then I shouldn't be able to either. Because the trait isn't there to begin with. They don't just happen. They come from your _blood."_

"And Lily's parents were both muggles. She can't have inherited any traits and she can't have passed any one."

"Yes, and?"

"And it isn't a known Potter blood trait, nor is it in the family information? From some other bloodline we married in to?" He looked over at the goblin who shook his head no.

Harry swallowed. "But I had to have gotten it somewhere."

Draco nodded very slowly. "Exactly."

"What about speaking to snakes? Or making your hair grow out when it was shaved off the day before? Or," he paused, "Or healing very quickly?"

Silver eyes stared. "Healing quickly?"

"Like having a broken bone that mends its self in a day or two? Or bruises that fade overnight? Never getting sick?"

He watched Draco's eyes get wider as he talked. So healing yourself without casting a spell or drinking a potion definitely wasn't a Potter trait then. Or normal. He decided it was best not to focus too much on the normal bits just then. Normal people don't help the younger memories of a Dark Lord come to life and then let him hide in a school full of children.

In fact, he ought to steer clear of labels all together at this point.

"I'd like to see the names on the envelope now, please."

* * *

**AN:** I created how magicks and politics and pureblood society functions within the world my story takes place before I even began writing the story. How am I doing? Am I making sense?

**-Pseudonymous**


	20. Grimm Discoveries

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_I can't get it out of my mind how you were left to bleed_

_Was it how you dressed or how you act? I can't believe how they could react_

_So violently, without regret_

_Well we will not forget_

_You're not out there on your own_

_We are the Others_

* * *

It was when both Draco and the goblin reached for the envelope and moved it away from Harry before he could pick it up that he started getting suspicious. His green eyes looked between them both accusingly, only heightened by their guilty, worried faces.

"What are you keeping from me?"

"Heir Potter, I'm not certain we are precisely the appropriate individuals to reveal this information nor am I of the opinion that anything at all good will come of it."

Harry was standing before he realized he'd moved. "You overstep your bounds." He looked at Draco. "Both of you. I expect that we shall have no further instances of this action, lead goblin?_ Companion?"_

Draco winced.

"Give me the envelope Heir Malfoy." Commanded Harry, mockingly though his voice was anything but amused.

The blonde held the envelope pressed to his chest a moment, gazing around the room as if an alternative course of action might present its self. Reluctantly the other boy handed it to him.

Harry remained standing, letting his authority sink in. He gave Draco a look of irritation, held up the envelope and paused. He blinked.

"I don't understand the fuss, this name means nothing to me."

Both of the room's other occupants relaxed instantly.

Harry pointed at Draco. "You will tell me. Now."

Draco's face announced to the world what he thought of that idea.

"You are my first companion it is your duty to protect my legacy and assets and fortunes as well as my well being. Are you so easily tired of such a position?"

"No of course not Harry." Draco sat up straighter.

"Then explain this."

"You may not have heard of her," he gestured at the envelope, "but surely you've heard of her uncles? Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm?"

Harry examined the envelope in his hands with more trepidation. Prima Grimm._ Grimm._

"You mean, are these the _Grimm Brothers_? They wrote muggle bedtime stories?"

"Yes."

Harry was pleased to actually know something for once.

"And no."

That didn't last long.

"They write events in history disguised as story books. They tell the truth about events in the magical world that aren't represented accurately for political reasons. They even include codes in them and banned spells as well as information that tells you where to look to learn more or meet like minded people. It's all pretty hush though. No ministry has ever been able to prove their suspicions of the Grimm Dynasty. As far as the public record is concerned, they're perfectly clean."

Harry sat down and crossed his legs. "How can they be her uncles? They have to be centuries old."

The goblin nodded this time. Harry needed to think of a name for him, he felt rude calling him the goblin in his head. Of course it was rude not to remember his name but he couldn't do much about it now. _Goblin of no name I dub thee...Crimspeck. _

"Vampires." said Crimspeck.

"Swell. I still don't see why you were trying to hide this from me?"

Draco smirked. "Not even phased by potential criminal relatives." He murmured affectionately.

"The Grimm's Dynasty is referred to as such because, roughly, they own half of the_ world's _wealth." Crimspeck's eyes were positively gleaming.

"Yes, and Prima is the Queen of their fortune, since both Wilhelm and Jacob are considered dead in the eyes of the magical world to keep their vampirism private. She's the leader of the whole clan."

Crimspeck tapped his claws on the desk, head tilted. "If you are somehow related to her, as her name being on the envelope suggests, if you are in fact her son-"

"That makes you the heir to the Grimm's fortune." Draco cut in.

Harry wasn't sure when he slid out of his chair to the floor. A world of magic? Sure thing. Wizard Jesus? Not a problem. Heir to the vampire mafia?

He swallowed. Why couldn't his parents be stamp collectors?

"Alright, so, if I'm her son why does she let Lily Potter claim that title? And why was I sent to live with Lily's sister if they aren't even my family?"

Draco's grin faded. "I don't know. Because everyone knows Prima didn't have any children. And she disappeared from the public's eye one month after The Dark Lord was supposedly defeated by you."

"How can you possibly know she didn't have any kids?"

The blonde settled himself on the floor beside Harry, since Harry hadn't moved to get back in his chair. After a moment Crimspeck walked around his desk and joined their little circle on the floor.

"She was very socially active. Father says that while most people didn't actually get to speak with her or even get near her really, she was often invited to and attended the pureblood solstice rituals, and was seen in foreign ministries all over the world. Hardly a day went by without her picture in the paper at some event or the other. If she was pregnant everyone would know."

"What's more Heir Potter, as the first female first-born to be born into the line she was blessed as a _Geminum Anima _on the day of her birth in celebration."

Harry stared at Crimspeck blankly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It means that she had certain rites and customs she had to abide by in regards to romantic relationships. If she broke any of them she'd lose her granted immortality, which is part of the gift. A _Geminum Anima _blessing is exactly that. It costs a very high price to earn it for your child and it can only be freely bestowed on a child with pure intentions. It gives her the ability to form a soul bond with her chosen life companion. This is where you hear about soul mates. The one who chooses to peruse a _Geminum Animas _blessed individual has to state an intention to court, publicly, and undergo a series of tests and trials to prove himself worthy. The immortality is a side effect, so that the child may live as long as necessary to find their chosen mate. While Prima _did _have a declaration of intention, it didn't go through. It was canceled and she never bonded."

"Why on earth would anyone give up the chance of a _soul mate?"_

Draco and Crimspeck averted their eyes uncomfortably.

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

When he didn't get a response he braced himself. It couldn't get much worse, he reassured himself. He just found out his mother wasn't really his mother but his real mother couldn't have given birth to him. Harry took a deep breath and nudged Draco's arm. "Draco?"

The blonde cleared his throat but didn't look at him.

"You'd have to ask James Potter."


	21. Interlude 1: Information Overload

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_They say we are what we are but we don't have to be, I'll be the watcher of the eternal flame_

_Sometimes the only pay off for having any faith is when it's tested again and again everyday_

_I'm still comparing your past to my future, it might be your wound but they're my sutures_

_And live with me forever now, pull the blackout curtains down_

_We could be immortals, immortals, immortals_

* * *

Draco sent for Donovan.

The dull eyed solicitor brought forth articles and newspaper clippings from his never ending folder of information. There was probably some other less idiotic term for it but Harry certainly didn't know it.

This, like Sirius' status as his godfather, was once again one of those things where everyone knew about it. In fact it was bloody infamous in pureblood circles. Charles Potter and Dorea Potter nee Black were not able to conceive and present a blood heir or magical heir to society. As they got on in age there were many who tried to convince them to perform a magical adoption on a child from a lesser pureblood family, to keep the Potter line from ending. They refused.

Desperate, they approached the Grimms. In exchange for a favour to be determined at a later date the Grimms performed an unknown ritual to grant the Potters a child. James. A first-born son who was both a blood heir and a magical heir. His father and mother both from very powerful pureblood families, and his cousin's having a betrothal contract with the Malfoys and the Lestranges made James a potentially powerful political force and the connections and abilities needed to bring honour to his house.

When Sirius Black's thirteenth birthday came and he refused to have a proper showing into society and quit attending his heirship training his parents were frantic. The Black family legacy could only continue on in the first-born son of Black blood. The only other possibility to gain the magical inheritance and continue the line was James Potter.

It was well known that Sirius was James' favorite cousin but no one was prepared for what happened next. James offered to take on both the Black and Potter legacy's, including the responsibility to produce an heir. He took his new responsibilities in stride attending pureblood lessons and parties he would have avoided before. Sirius Black became James' first companion in thanks and endeavored to help his friend and cousin fulfill his responsibilities. While the Black boy wasn't in accord with his family's practices in private he gave a good show of solidarity in public to support James. Black and his mother came to an agreement, he'd ensure James progression and in return never again hinder the Black family's politics.

During the Summer meeting that year James met Prima Grimm. They began being seen together frequently and soon entered negotiations on friendship. From then on any time one of them was seen they were always accompanied by the other and it came as no surprise when on the Summer Solstice of the following year James performed a Declaration of Intention during the celebrations. Prima's immortality would take full effect the day of her seventeenth birthday, just after James' last year at Hogwarts. The wedding was planned take place the year after James' graduation from Hogwarts.

The response from magical society was incredible. When James completed his bond with Prima he would attain immortality as well, thus ensuring the continuation of the Potter line. Forever. Suddenly purebloods were coming out from every corner to strike alliances with the Potters, the Malfoys and the Blacks who had gone overnight from being among the highest ranking nobles houses to being _the_ highest ranking noble houses. James Potter couldn't have made a better political move and his family was proud. The happiness was not to last.

Sirius had an altercation with his mother and soon after moved in with the Potters. In his seventeenth year James starting falling out of the public eye. Of course at the time it was assumed he was concentrating on his last year at school and getting prepared for his responsibilities as a married heir to two pureblood families and wasn't unexpected. What surprised everyone was his sudden breaking of the bonding rituals and marriage to a muggleborn without his family's permission. _It was the scandal of the century._ The Grimms, infuriated and embarrassed reminded the Potters, ominously, that they owed them for a great deal and it could easily be taken away. Prima intervened in the midst of the political wars that followed and convinced her family to let it go.

No one knows how she managed it. Prima was very gracious and polite, never once showing any indication of how she must be feeling. It was the strength many admired of her. James Potter still had obligations, he had accepted his place as heir to two houses and his marriage didn't prevent his having to follow through. It was nearing his twenty first birthday when he and his new wife finally manged to produce an heir. The day was known to everyone, because Prima was there the day Harry was born.

She wasn't pregnant in any of the pictures, but Lily Potter very much was. He set the clippings aside. Even Harry knew what happened next. His parent's went into hiding, Voldemort found them and murdered them. Harry was sent to the Dursely's.

One month later Prima Grimm disappeared altogether.


	22. By Moonlight

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_It's getting harder to stay awake and my strength is fading fast, when my faith is getting weak and I feel like giving in_

_I'm at war with the world cause I ain't never gonna sell my soul, I've already made up my mind, no matter what I can't be bought or sold_

_In the dark I can feel you in my sleep, in your arms I feel you breath into me_

_Forever hold this heart that I will give to you, forever I will live for you_

_At last-__I'm awake and I'm alive_

_At last_

* * *

He knew he ought to be jumping up and down with excitement now he knew he had family members that weren't magic-hating muggles. For some reason Potter-hating vampiric lords just didn't seem like that much of a step up. They might not even reply. Or they might follow him into an alley and destroy the last living reminder of their family's humiliation. They could assume he lied and they could even already know and be uninterested. Harry still had a murderous godfather to deal with, an event to plan and a Dark lord to inform. He certainly didn't have time to let his fears run away with him.

Instead of worrying about things he couldn't control he needed to take action right now in the ways he could and then see what came of it. There wasn't any other method he could think of that didn't involve a nervous breakdown. Draco turned to the left when they reached the final stair of Gringotts, toward the Ministry access point in the alley. Harry went to their room at the Leaky Cauldron and sat at the desk. There was really one way to do this and beating around the bush wasn't going to get it done any sooner.

_Sirius Black_

_House Black_

_This is a private invitation to my magical acknowledgment in one week's time. Presenting the seal on this letter at the door will allow your entrance and temporary sanctuary for the duration of the event._

_Your godson,_

_Heir Potter_

Harry set the parchment aside to dry and flipped open his diary. If he didn't keep Tom aware of the situation he would have to add offended teenage Dark Lord to his list of things to worry about. Frankly he didn't have time for that.

_Tom?_

**Harry?**

_Quick question. How does one fashion a letter to one's vampiric great uncles requesting an audience?_

**Where on Earth did you acquire vampiric great uncles?**

_It's a long story_

**I have an equally long answer**

Harry gathered his nerves and set them aside in his mind for now, adapting utter calm and set to explaining the way of things to Tom. He intended to do something about all of this tonight.

The fact was Harry had exactly one week until his magical acknowledgment and his official acceptance of his heirship. In order to do that he had to have his Terms of Inheritance so he could publicly accept his responsibilities.

While he could technically accept his position without knowing his heirship requirements it would be a dumb thing to do. This is his one and only shot to alter anything in it and once he accepted he was bound to it, much like his father had still been bound to his own requirements even though he broke a bonding agreement he initiated. Regardless of circumstance magic would enforce Due Punishment if you did not complete the requirements of your Terms of Inheritance. Which left him with very little in the choice department.

He could go on and do it anyway. He could forfeit his inheritance. Or he could get his Terms of Inheritance somehow. As far as Lucius was concerned, as Harry's official sponsor for his introduction to society, choosing to go along without knowing his terms would not illicit favour from the pureblood world. As far as Harry was concerned the second wasn't an option either.

He point blank refused to give up any part of his legacy.

Tom was delighted at the turn of events. Harry wanted to stab him with his quill. He couldn't blame him though, things like this fell directly into the _entertaining drama _category...when they were happening to someone else. In the end he took his friend's enjoyment of his problems in stride. At least the other boy provided useful information between snarky comments. That was something.

_To the Lords Grimm_

_Purveyors of truth and magicks_

_House Grimm_

_If you've opened this letter after seeing its seal I can only hope you intend to read it as well. I have reason to believe your niece, Prima Grimm, is my mother. That was blunt but I couldn't think of a politer way to say it. _

_This may come as a surprise, you can be assured I was quite taken off guard myself. _

_Prima no longer dances in the public's eye. I've been informed all attempts to communicate with her in the last decade have not been successful, but the two of you are still active if in the shadows. I am sending this to you with the hope you will arrange to meet me so I might prove my intent is not malicious. I only wish to provide you with evidence that what I say is true to the extent of my knowledge and I hope you might be persuaded to aid me in the pursuit of an audience with Prima Grimm herself._

_Your curious great nephew_

_Heir Potter_

There wasn't anything else to do. He turned his mind from it, smiled when the twins asked to come in and set about playing a card game. He hadn't relaxed yet today and he should. Things would only get more serious.

Draco joined in when he returned, with his father's permission to continue staying with Harry. Ron stirred up a fuss, Percy doused the twins with water when they attempted to read his book over his shoulder, and in the midst of all the chaos Harry allowed himself to smile.

Harry shifted under the covers of the bed that night. He sat up, sheets pooling around his waist and stared blearily over to the window. It was open. With a long-suffering sigh he pushed himself to his feet and ignored the chill gifted to him by the merciless wooden floor. Next time he was going to shove Draco off the other end of the bed and make him close the window. He grasped the the frame and made to close it. A soft sound had him freezing in the middle of the motion. He turned his head.

"We have come."

Harry twirled around. Two figures moved forward from the shadows of the room into the pale light of the moon coming through the half closed window. Both of them faded and washed out looking, fair hair and skin and pale yellow eyes a stark contrast to the dark of night. A faint smile flashed pointed teeth.

He tried very hard to ignore the way they made his skin crawl. Harry bowed at the waist in deference to their age, status and position as his relatives.

"Uncles, I'm pleased you accepted the invitation."

They let out a whisper of amusement. "How else would we get in?" Voices soft and slow, only the barest hint of a German accent.

It didn't appear to be a legitimate question so Harry did not respond. They crossed their arms in unison and tilted their heads in opposite directions.

"We wondered if you would send for us one day."

Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

"Is it true?" His voice rasped.

They dropped to their knees, bringing themselves to his eye-level, movements gentle and purposely non-threatening. No expressions betrayed their feelings but he could practically taste their unease.

"It is as you say. We are family." Two sets of hands carefully reached out to him in. "If you will have us."

Harry stared. They thought _he_ might reject _them? _

Of course. They were vampires, dark creatures, and he the-boy-who-lived, son of James Potter the man who rejected their niece. A Gryffindor, with predominately light friends shown in public up to this point. They had every reason to believe he wouldn't want to ruin his reputation by associating with them. Perhaps they'd even been told so and convinced of it. In fact, he thought, glancing between them, that may explain why they waited for him to come to them rather then sending him a letter themselves. An appropriately meddlesome entity immediately came to mind.

To hell with that. He took three quick steps forward and gathered them both in an embrace, politely ignoring their startled gasps.

Harry couldn't care less what the world thought.


	23. I didn't ask for an audience

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_This is the last night you'll spend alone, look me in the eyes so I know you know_

_I'm everywhere you want me to be_

_The last night you'll spend alone, I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go_

_I'm everything you need me to be_

_They don't know you like I know you, t__hey don't know you at all_

_The night is so long when everything's wrong, If you give me your hand I will help you hold on_

_Tonight_

* * *

"Wild." Said his uncles. They sat on the floor, straight backed and proper in their gray velvet suits with gray vests and gray bow ties. Dark cloaks long since removed and wrapped around Harry when he began to shiver in their grasp. "Her laugh, the look in her eyes and even the way she moved. Absolutely feral and rebellious, every cell in her body. We adored her."

Harry's cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling. He couldn't find it in him to care.

"And when she danced in the pureblood circles, _that_ was magic. The looks on their faces when she entered the room, like a tiger without a leash walked amongst them. We miss that the most we think. Watching her play her games with them. Prima bored very easily and so was always making up new games or adding more elaborate rules. Without telling anyone of course. Mortal beings fascinated her."

"I heard the thing most admired about her was her strength to get through unfortunate situations gracefully."

Like James Potter rejecting her and then marrying a muggleborn. He shoved that train of thought into a corner viciously.

They nodded, yellow eyes tender. "Prima was very proud, it would be unacceptable to her for anyone to glimpse her weaknesses."

Harry worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You have a question for us child?"

He swallowed and nodded. "Why didn't she come with you?"

"You must understand, she tried to see you many times when you were very little-"

He held in a snarl. He was so sick of having to understand this or understand that. Why couldn't anyone tell him the truth? It was his life he deserved to know about anything and everything that affected it and dammit he was tired of people keeping secrets and making excuses and expecting him to understand. He wanted answers. He wanted to know _why_ the wizards left him at the Dursleys, he wanted to know _why_ his father rejected a soul mate bond, he wanted to know _why_ Dumbledore let him bear the weight of the rumours last year _and he really wanted to know where the hell his mother was._

"That's not good enough. Why isn't she here now?" Harry's voice both hard and distant, and soft and vulnerable. He didn't know if he was accusing or begging.

His uncles smiled apologetically,, one hand each running through his hair on opposite sides. Voices soft and windy and achingly gentle. "We have not seen Prima in a very long time child. Soon after you were taken away she left us and we have not heard from her. We searched but where she is we can not go."

"I was taken away?"

They shifted. "The night the _wizards_," Identical scowls, "named you their savior she went in search of you. You too, child, went where we could not follow."

Harry frowned. "Why not?"

"We were not invited. The wards would not allow Prima, especially, near the house. The closer she came the more it would hurt until we had no choice but to pull her back."

"There are _wards_ around my house?"

They nodded. "Blood wards. Strong ones. She could not break them though she tried. We had to flee from wizards twice."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "There aren't any other wizards on Privet Drive."

Or there better not have been. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone seeing him running around in Dudley's clothes or Merlin forbid one of his classmates knowing he worked the gardens in Summer. It was too embarrassing to even contemplate. No one ever needed to know. Unless it was to bring Dumbledore down, he amended. He could do it for that reason if it came down to it and blackmail wasn't an available alternative. He'd much rather keep it between those who needed to know and no one else.

"You are watched Harrison. The blood wards keep those like us out and alert your watchers if we try to breech them."

His stomach churned alarmingly. So people did know then. More than just the headmaster. There were people who knew what happened at the Dursley house. And they were just like Dumbledore weren't they? Watching and never doing anything. Keeping his uncles away from him. Harry wondered if his distress was obvious. Because in the next moment he was pulled into a shared hug between them, the cold of their bodies seeping through their cloaks. He didn't mind it. "We can be with you now Harrison. We are your family."

"I am your family too Harry."

Harry turned to see Draco sitting up. He wondered how long the other boy had been lying awake and listening. How Slytherin. "I know we've only gotten to really know one another recently, but I _am _your cousin and I had hoped you were beginning to see me as your friend."

Harry's breath caught on the lump in his throat. He was grateful to them, all of them for their affection but it was overwhelming. He buried his face in one of his uncles shoulders. Draco let out a snort, soft padding across the floor indicating he had joined them. His uncles gave a low warning growl he was pretty sure Draco couldn't hear. Harry froze. Over-protective thirteen year old cousin with a bossy mouth. Over-protective blood sucking uncles.

"Please don't eat my cousin." He murmured, cautiously. Harry looked up and gave them his best wide-eyed puppy look. "He's a prissy git sometimes but I'd miss him."

Draco emitted a sound of outrage.

Harry felt more than heard whispery laughter. "We shall do our best to refrain."


	24. Like the Wind and the Rain

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Ain't it funny, rumors fly and I know you heard about me_

_So hey let's be friends, I'm dying to see how this one ends_

_So it's gonna be forever or it's gonna go down in flames_

_You can tell me when it's over If the high was worth the pain_

_'Cause we're young and we're reckless we'll take this way too far_

_It'll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar_

* * *

Today was the third day The Uncles had come to visit and it was very hard to know how to act around them when they were waxing poetic about the dust caught in the sunlight leaking through a crack in the wall. Or holding Harry between them like they feared he'd just crumble into nothing if they weren't touching him. It was like having two giant, blood-sucking kittens who did everything in tandem.

Tonight they brought with them a pensive.

_Together he and Harry stood at the back of a memory ballroom. Harry's attention on a boy to their left with messy hair. James Potter. The teenage future father of his newest friend was himself staring directly across the hall. Draco could see a boy, about fourteen maybe, with very light skin and dark hair being made to show off the steps to The Summer Dance by his mother. All the purebloods took every chance to display the talents of their eldest sons and daughters at this time of year. Draco himself often felt like a well trained dog. His mother said '__**recite the five most important wizarding edicts in French**__' and his mouth started moving before his mind caught up with the request._

_This dark haired boy was obviously annoyed by his mother but he gave it a try. James Potter snickered loudly and the boy missed a step. He started to stop when a new set of legs appeared next to his imitating the next step. With a surprised smile the boy continued with his new partner, turning to see who it was. A girl his age with tan skin and two thick braid hanging down to her knees. Nothing interesting until you took in the fact her hair was the colour of snow and her eyes were a glinting pale yellow. Prima Grimm. _

_To his credit the boy didn't miss anymore steps. They danced around together, skipping and stomping and clapping and thoroughly enjoying themselves. The entire hall stopped to watch. _

_The Summer Dance was a pureblood favorite because it used the sounds of one's magic to produce the music of the dance and so it was judged by the sound your magic produced and how well it mixed with your partners. That wasn't a problem here. Both of these teenagers were powerful. Prima's magic sounded like the wind and the rain, his like the booming and rolling of thunder. Like a Summer storm. _

_The crowd was pleased, applause immediate at the end of the dance._

_James took this moment to walked up Prima, bow and ask for a dance. To his surprise and everyone else's amusement, she turned and walked away. The rest of the memory James Potter followed her around the room trying to get her attention. He told clever jokes, flirted with other girls, boasted of his Transfiguration skills and flashed his heir ring. Each time yellow eyes would glance at him, a small smile gracing Prima's lip and then she'd determinedly turn away. _

_It was hilarious. _

_James was then found hiding underneath the refreshment table, an empty potions vial in his hand. It may have been a fun prank if the next person to come get punch wasn't Draco's own father Lucius Malfoy. Harry let our a startled laugh when Lucius' blonde hair turned purple. With a sixth sense for knowing who caused him trouble Lucius ducked under the table and cursed at James._

_"Potter!"_

_A tanned hand grabbed James and Prima was leading him away, darting in and out of the crowd an irate Lucius following after. They hit the staircase and could get no further in the crowd. Undaunted, Prima put a boot up on the railing, stood on the railing and jumped to the next balcony. With a flip she was on the other side and leaning over to smile at a dumbfounded James. _

_"Scared?" She taunted, her voice low and warm._

_James took one look over his shoulder at the nearing Malfoy, gulped and climbed up beside her. _

The memory faded away.

"That was your mum meeting your father for the first time, wasn't it Harry?"

"Yes, I think it was." He said, voice very small.

Draco took a breath and faced The Uncles. They stood there, waiting, arms crossed.

"Where is Prima Grimm?"

Everyone stilled. Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. It had to be asked and he was sick of everyone avoiding the question. She was the only one who could open the Will for Harry so he could proceed with his magical acknowledgment. There had to be a way to get to her and explain what was going on. From what he understood Harry's uncles hadn't been able to get to Harry because he was within strong wards. Harry's mother had to be behind some strong wards as well. If they at least _knew _where she was then he and Harry could see if the wards prevented them entering. There wasn't any reason at all for them to stop _Draco_, so if nothing else _he _could go inside. Waltzing in on a powerful witch and reminding her of the son she had with the man who betrayed her wasn't high on his list of fun things to do but someone would have to.

If not Harry then it would be him.

An hour later found them standing in front of a very large red bricked compound with high walls and muggle recording cameras. Draco held Harry's hand and walked determinedly forward. So far neither of them felt the push of the wards. It wasn't until they were nearly to the door that Draco saw a sign. His insides clenched.

_Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum._


	25. Stolen Child

**Summary**: When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_This is where i draw the line_

_This is the where the old me dies_

_Light a match, let it burn, kiss it goodbye,_

_Giving up what i was_

_This is where i draw the line_

* * *

Harry was glad to have a Slytherin along with him. It hadn't even occurred to him what to say to explain his presence here or how he knew of Prima's presence here or anything else. He'd been about to say his name when Draco clamped down on his arm and spoke for the both of them. Now they were kids doing a report on all the things this fine institution did and they'd chosen a name from a list a random to do their report on specifically. Prima Grimm.

It was all he could do to keep himself from shaking. Harry knew his nails must be digging into the palm of Draco's hand by now. The other boy made no mention of it. At a desk in front of them a woman with fake blonde hair tapped on a keyboard.

"There, all done. Come along. This one is one of my favourites you see. I visit her at least once a day." She said, smiling.

A clipboard under her left arm she walked down the hall to the left to the end and then took a right. They were lead through a narrow hall with several small metal doors on either side. He could hear growls and groans and bangs from behind them.

"The more lively ones." Beside him Draco shivered.

They followed the nurse who dressed more like the warden of a prison than a health professional, down toward a large glass-encased room. Inside was a toilet and a cot. Sitting on the cot in a thin, mint green robe, arms wrapped around her knees and head tilted toward the roof was Prima Grimm. He knew it. He could see her snow coloured hair from here. Her eyes faced upward but he knew they'd be pale yellow, just like his uncles' eyes. The tan of her skin was bold contrast to the oppressive white of the room.

"Here we are." The nurse rapped on the glass smartly. "Morning sweetheart!"

Draco leaned around Harry. "Why is she in a glass room?"

"Because she's a fox this one. Escaped thirty eight times the first six months she was here. Even staged a riot with some of other patients. That was back when we were still trying to get her rehabilitated." She shook her head. "But that isn't going to happen for this one."

Harry took a step forward and paused. A red gate slid up through the floor, about waist high. A sign on it read **Do Not Engage The Patient Alone**. He blinked and looked at the nurse.

"You have to be very careful boys. She's out of it now but sometimes it wears off sooner than we think and she hides it from us. Looks a bit like a doll doesn't she? But she isn't harmless, you couldn't trust a thing she said. That's not as much of a problem anymore of course."

Harry stared through the glass. Prima's face was blank, her eyes empty, hair unbound and coiled around her like a blanket. He tried to ignore the faint sound of howling winds and melancholy rain. The music of her magic.

"Is she more trustworthy now then?"

The nurse made a face, shook her head and tapped her own throat. "Poor thing. Back when that sort of thing was allowed, we would never have done it now. Suppose it's for the best though. They had these strange specialists come in with odd uniforms and they did an operation. Altered her vocal cords."

Harry felt like someone punched him in the gut. "So, she can't," he cleared his throat, "She can't speak then?"

"No. She can sing though. I'm so glad they left it so, though I can't imagine the mechanics of such an operation. She's got a lovely voice. I call her the little bird." She rapped on the glass again. "Prima sweetie, won't you sing for us? You've got new visitors and they'd love to hear you sing."

Yellow eyes snapped to them.

"That's right sweetie, give us a song." Crooned the nurse.

Draco looked ill.

Harry swallowed again and pressed his hand against the glass, leaning over the fence.

"Sing for me?" He asked.

Yellow eyes stared at him for a moment.

_"Where dips the rocky highland of Slueth Wood in the lake, there lies a leafy island where flapping herons wake_

_The drowsy water rats; there we've hid our faery vats full of berries and reddest of stolen cherries_

_Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild _

_With a faery hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping than ye can understand_

_Where the wave of moonlight glosses the dim gray sands with light_

_Far off by furthest rosses we foot it all the night_

_Weaving olden dances, mingling hands and mingling glances_

_Till the moon has taken flight, to and fro we leap_

_Ans chase the frothy bubbles while the world is full of troubles_

_And is anxious in its sleep_

_Away with us he's going, the solemn-eyed_

_For he comes the human child, to the waters and the wild_

_with a feary hand in hand, from a world more full of weeping than he can understand.*"_

The nurse clapped cheerfully. Harry quickly wiped a tear from his face.

"Isn't that lovely? I've never heard anything like it. I feel as though it's moving in me..." The nurse trailed off.

"Well, I'm just glad she's getting some new visitors. She doesn't like _him. _I think he's the one who commissioned for her operation. Can't blame him there, she was creative in her words with him. Back then. I sort of miss it."

Draco once again took the lead, perhaps knowing Harry couldn't have spoken just then.

"Who is her other visitor?"

The nurse leaned close to them conspiratorially,"We aren't allowed to ask his sort for their names but I know it because he's the one that brought her in. In the paperwork it said she was a danger to herself and to others. Strange things happened around her. Still do sometimes. And she used to claim to see the oddest things and we could never get her to admit those things didn't exist. Honestly_, potions and magic and werewolves?_ Her mind was a frightening place. And she could be just as frightening, when she had a mind to be. This old nurse who retired shortly after I came on, well I wasn't there the day this happened but she swore the girl somehow got her hand through the glass and was holding the poor man by his throat. The very next day they brought those bracelets for her. See them? Just there."

Harry could see them, thin bands around her lower arm.

"I was there the day they put them on her. I suppose I wasn't prepared."

He really didn't want to know anymore, but he heard himself asking. "What do you mean?"

"There is something entirely unnatural about her. Hasn't aged a day since she was brought here and that day..." the nurse shuddered. "I've never seen anyone move so quickly. And the growling and screaming, like a wild animal. Had to bring out the hose and spray her down until she calmed. They put the bracelets on her and got out as fast as they could. She raged for days. Flitting back and forth in there, so quick you almost couldn't see it. Kicking and pounding against the glass and begging to be let out. Acted like the child she was supposed to be. Escaped one more time. Then came the operation and the medicine she's on now. Tranquilized all the time, poor thing. Can't be helped though. We were afraid she'd starting hurting herself."

He felt Draco lean closer to him. "Those are magic suppressors Harry. They bound her magic."

He nodded, just enough for Draco to see. He turned to the nurse with a big smile and wide eyes. "Could we see the paperwork? Just a glance? I'd really like to know more, it's fascinating."

The nurse smiled and patted his head. "Of course. It'll just be our secret eh?" She winked and walked around the corner. Two minutes later she came back with a folder.

"Here darling."

"Ma'am?" Harry turned to look at Draco. "What was her crime? The reason she was first admitted?"

Harry turned back to the nurse. She frowned. "She broke in to a house. The family was in hysterics. Attacked the father and tried to kill one of the babies. Had him in her arms when they got there. Lucky they brought her here. It would have been the prisons otherwise and they aren't equipped to handle poor dears like this one. It isn't her fault she's mad."

Harry winced.

"I'll be back in five minutes." Her heals clicked away.

He felt himself harden inside. A shaky hand grabbed the folder and flipped it open. He searched until he found her admittance paperwork. Dated 26 November 1981. Almost a month after Voldemort killed James and Lily Potter. The house she broke into was Number 4 Privet Drive.

Grimly, he turned the paper over. A light bulb nearby burst. Then another.

Draco wrapped an arm around him and squeezed. "Harry? What is it?"

Wordlessly he handed the paper to Draco, pointing at the name at the bottom.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

* * *

*Stolen Child: Loreena McKennit.


	26. A Vow of Vengeance

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold_

_But you will remember me, remember me for centuries_

_And just one mistake is all it will take_

_And I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name_

_Until you die for me, as long as there is a light, my shadow's over you_

_Remember me_

* * *

_Oh Merlin._

Draco allowed Harry to secure himself around his arm, face buried into his shoulder. It was certainly a lot to take in. He took the lead after that. Calmly giving back the paperwork when the nurse returned and questioning the circumstances which would allow Prima to be freed. Then he thanked her for her time and left the compound. The Grimms stood at the end of the street, anxiously. He didn't know if Harry would want to be the one to tell them or not, so he only confirmed Prima's presence inside.

He nodded to them, brought his portkey from his pocket and took himself and Harry home. Luckily his father was in the receiving room when they popped into it. He didn't think he was up to a search about the grounds. Or much movement at all really.

Draco hadn't been able to properly explain the situation to his father at first, such was his anger. Such was his broiling sickness in his soul. His fear. He'd always known muggles were beasts. Every pureblood child grew up learning about the witch trials that swept the world. Some of them burned, some of them hung or beheaded or tied with stones and thrown into the river. Muggles couldn't handle anything that wasn't like them and today he had seen their vile ways up close. He didn't think he would ever be able to forget the screaming that came from the metal doors or the scar on Prima Grimms neck. The vacant look in her eyes, like there wasn't anyone behind them.

_Oh Merlin._

Draco spun on his heel, entered the nearest bathroom and retched.

When he finally got a hold of himself he explained to his father everything he learned the last few days and everything he saw today. All of it, every horrible detail. Now he could only wait and hope his father could do something about it. There was no way Albus Dumbledore had the authority to put an adult magical being in a damned muggle facility without their permission. It was inconceivable. If he did it to her, then who was to say he hadn't done it to someone else? Or that he wouldn't do it again? What else was this man capable of?

He could imagine, in his mind, Prima fighting them with all of her might when they came to bind her magic. Had to spray her with a hose. That's what the nurse said. They had to half drown her before they could even get close enough. Then they ran and left her behind glass the cowards.

That this happened to a well known, wealthy pureblood was perhaps the most frightening bit for Draco. It meant no one was safe. No one had even known! And they still would not, if Harry hadn't sent after his uncles. Prima would have been behind the glass forever. Draco dug his nails into the palm of his hands, much as Harry had earlier, and tried to fight down the urge to vomit once more. He took a breath, sat and rocked forward.

_Oh Merlin._

His training didn't cover this. These sort of things didn't _happen_ anymore. That's what everyone said. How could something like a muggle ever hurt someone like a wizard? But they can and they did and they do. And they didn't see anything wrong with it. Some of the people in there were muggles too. They did it to their own kind. Locked them up and told them they were mad and kept them dizzy on potions.

Were all muggles like this?

He knew Harry's life with the muggles wasn't good. What might they have done to him that his little cousin wasn't telling him? Why was he so terrified of going home? What was it he had said? A cupboard under the stairs? A boy named Freak?

_Oh merlin._

Draco shivered. "They bound her magic so she couldn't defend herself and then they stole her voice. Her voice father. I saw it, the scar, they cut her open with a knife and they stole her voice. With _a knife _father..." He didn't resist when his father pulled him into his arms. Draco didn't like appearing weak but his training didn't _cover_ things like this. These things weren't supposed to happen anymore. That's why they had the Statute of Secrecy. This is why they stayed out of the muggle world. This shouldn't be possible. They were wizards. Gods. Masters of the universe.

"They took her magic away and then they cut her open...with a knife...with a knife..."

Arms squeezed him close. "I will never let that happen to you Dragon. You have nothing to fear here."

_Why was it so hard to breathe?_

"I am going to take care of everything."

"Yes father." The reply was automatic. He didn't think he'd ever feel safe again.

Draco looked over to Harry. The younger boy still hadn't moved. Draco swallowed. What did one say? What could one possibly do to make this better? He didn't know how to comfort his friend. Hell he could hardly stand it himself. He couldn't imagine what he'd do if it was his father behind that glass. He quickly dug his nails into his palms once more, holding back another wave of nausea. What could Prima have done for Dumbledore to believe she deserved such a punishment? Love the wrong man?

No. Realization dawned on him, painfully. He shut his eyes quickly.

_Just breathe. _

He did it not because _Prima_ did something wrong. Not necessarily. Dumbledore did it because he wanted Harry with the muggles. _That_ was why he had the records of that sealed. _That_ was why he kept knowledge of Harry's inheritance from him. He didn't want Harry to know anything about himself. He wanted him ignorant. Harry's Godfather was in Azkaban, until recently anyway. Harry didn't attend any of the functions he was expected to participate in. He hadn't known anyone from the wizarding world before Hogwarts. His only contacts outside the children in Gryffindor was that Hagrid fellow and Dumbledore himself. What was that blasted man doing? No matter. He couldn't have Harry. His friend. His companion. Under his protection. And it seemed it was about damn time that _somebody_ protected him.

Draco stood, walked to the chair Harry curled up in and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to keep you safe."

Dumbledore would regret this day. Draco would make sure of it.


	27. Cruel Intentions

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_If I seem dangerous, would you be scared_

_I get the feeling just because, everything I touch isn't dark enough..._

_A monster! A monster!_

* * *

Lucius watched his son and the Potter child for moment. Or Grimm child? He could worry about the semantics later. He turned, scooped a small amount of floo powder into his hand, stepped into the fire place and quietly stated his destination. A moment later he stepped out of one of the many fireplaces in the Ministry Arrival Hall. The blonde Lord stepped briskly to the lift ignoring the ministry officials seeking his attention. He was not here to socialize.

He knew what the wizarding world thought of him. Ruthless, vain, selfish, cold. He was all of those things, the reputation didn't offend him. But, what they often forgot, Lucius was a devoted father. Draco was his soul source of joy in the world, other than politics. He had nothing else. His father died the winter prior and his mother had gone before him many years ago. He knew he spoiled his son and dared anyone to make something of it. What his son wanted he got for him.

After hearing his son's words Lucius knew exactly what it was he wanted now. To protect Harry Potter. For whatever reason their friendship went beyond politics and into the realm of true affection. Such alliances were rare in this world. To have someone with true loyalty at your back was not something to be overlooked.

What was more, Potter was a politician's dream. His father had been a pureblood and heir to two good, strong wizarding houses. His mother the leader of the Grimm Dynasty. Rulers of the wizarding underworld, rebels fighting for the right to knowledge. For the right to practice and research any type of magic without fear of prosecution. Sworn to the truth they were known as True Observers. Members of the Grimm family were often used in court to settle disputes. After all, everyone knew a Grimm would tell you exactly what he or she saw without bias against your affiliations or house or magical practices. Fair.

And his son was making an alliance with the Heir to the Grimm Dynasty. The Heir to House Potter and House Black. The single most powerful child in the wizarding world. No he would not waste this opportunity. If nothing else he wanted compensation for his son's fear. No wizarding child should be subjected to the cruelty of muggles. Not even by observation.

For that matter, no pureblood should have to worry about being sent away to be _tortured by muggles._

He took in a breath that was certainly not to calm his nerves. His hands did not shake. Lucius did not think back to a little girl in braids who once followed him about the manor. A girl who healed his mother after a raid on the manor. And if he felt indebted to her...no one would ever know. It would ruin his reputation.

The lift stopped. Lucius exited and began the walk down the hallway. His destination directly in his sight.

"Lord Malfoy! I wasn't aware the Minister was expecting you." A flustered secretary stood hastily and bowed.

"He is not. But he _will_ see me." He turned his eyes on her. She shuddered and half-ran to knock on the Minister's door. He watched her slip in and out.

"He will see you now."

Lucius didn't feel the need to reply. He strode in shutting the door firmly behind him, casting a silencing spell for good measure.

"Ah, Lucius. To what do I owe this visit?" Fudge motioned to the chair in front of his desk, greasy smile plastered to his face.

Lucius ignored the offered seat.

"Tell me, Minister, what would you say if I told you a pureblood woman was imprisoned in a muggle health facility without her or her family's permission. A facility where she was harmed. Where she could not defend herself because her magic was bound."

The Minister stared. "A _muggle _facility? Who would dare?"

"Albus. Dumbledore."

Fudge paled. "Now see here Lucius, one can not go around accusing Dumbledore of all people. Especially of something like this. Where did you say you got this information?"

"I didn't."

The minister gave a placating smile. "Lucius, Dumbledore, he has a reason for what he does. I do not always agree with his choices but even you must admit the man tends to follow the rules. I can't see him blatantly ignoring them." The man gave a rueful laugh. He would have torn Dumbledore's titles from him years ago if he'd been able to. Fudge feared Dumbledore's political power.

Lucius tilted his head. "Who would have caught him? It was all done in the muggle world. No one there to see his...transgressions."

"Lucius you must _stop_." Fudge glanced around nervously as if expecting the old man to pop out of a corner and demand to know why his good name was being slandered.

Lucius resisted the urge to curse the Minister. They frowned on that sort of thing.

"Perhaps you would allow me to send an invitation to two individuals I know have an invested interest in this situation? Best we all talk about this at once, together don't you think?"

Fudge nodded warily. He might fear Dumbledore's political aspirations but Lucius was the one in his office. "I suppose Lucius. If you think it's a good idea-"

Lucius took the minister's quill from his hand and write a note on the back of a slip of parchment. He attached it to the Minister's owl and set it out the window.

"I guarantee you will want to hear this out."

The blonde Lord stepped back and waited patiently. Draco confirmed the rumours. He expected his invitation to be accepted immediately. It was. Fudge glanced up, startled, when the wards on this floor of the building shifted and shook once. His eyes widened.

Lucius didn't blame him for being concerned. He ought to be. The wards detected and reacted to the emotions and intentions of visitors. It allowed the staff on the floor to be better prepared to handle the disposition of the wizards or witches who came to see them.

Whoever it was was _not _pleased.

Fudge straightened his desk nervously. "Lucius. These friends of yours. They aren't the violent sort are they?"

The doors swung open, two identical sets of boots entered soundlessly. Lucius inclined his head in greeting, turned back to the Minister and smiled. He tried to keep the wickedness out of it. From the way Fudge knocked over his inkwell he might not have done the best job. Completely unintentional of course.

"Minister, might I introduce the Lords Grimm?"

The inkwell fell out of Fudge's hands, rolled along the desk then hit the floor. It shattered.

Lucius hid a smirk. "You may have heard of them."


	28. A Bloody Masterpiece

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_...these shades don't leave my head, everything you say is so irrelevant_

_You follow in my lead, you wanna be like me_

_But you're just a wannabe, love it or hate it_

_I can't help the way I am, hope you don't misunderstand_

_Don't take it personal, don't get emotional_

_You know it's the truth_

_I'm too cool for you_

* * *

Fudge stood quickly, scattering parchment. "M-my Lords!"

He bowed shallowly. The two vampires narrowed their eyes but did not bow in return. Lucius gave a mental grimace at the Minister's arrogant actions. Fudge was a halfblood with no claim to a proper House, his position as Minister did not erase that fact. He was a representative figure more than anything, his position gave the illusion of choice to the magical people and everyone who was anyone of importance knew it. The real power of the wizarding world lie in the Wizengamot in pureblood dances, the ancient politics between noble Houses and those strong enough to stand on their own without a House backing them. Everyone but Fudge himself it would seem. The self-important man's mouth went up and down several times before his brain was charged up enough to think of something to follow up that brilliant bit of linguistic mastery.

"I did not expect to see you."

"Obviously." Came the soft chorused response. The fact they said it sincerely rather than sarcastically made it even more condescending.

Fudge flustered. "Yes well I...er...that is to say...Lucius here says you are some what interested in this situation? I suppose?" His eyes flicked to Lucius.

The blonde aristocrat ignored him. Lucius wasn't here to pull his strings today, the Minister would have to think for himself. If he still retained that particular capability.

"I was just explaining to the Minister our dislike for the situation. The Minister was explaining his disinterest."

Fudge paled. "Now Lucius-"

"Is it not inappropriate to refer to him by his given name? He is here in an official capacity as a friend to our House and personal companion to our niece. Using his name and disregarding his status so flippantly does not give us confidence in your capabilities to help us. Additionally it speaks of your low opinion of ourselves. We confess, it is not often we are met with such blatant disrespect."

The short man pulled out a kerchief, dabbing at the sweat on his brow. He swallowed. "Now gentleman please..." he trailed off, eyes wide.

Lucius watched and waited while the man stared between him and the two vampric Lords beside him.

"Official capacity. You're considering this a _personal matter?"_

The lords tilted their heads and blinked. "You do not consider the unlawful imprisonment of a Noble, pureblood magical citizen by the head of the Wizengamot to be a personal matter? Do the lives of your people mean so little to you?"

"That isn't what I-"

"You do not think it is something everyone ought to take seriously? You do not think it deserves proper investigation and compensation?"

Lucius waved a hand dismissively. "I fear you are wasting your time My Lords. The Minister is of the opinion Dumbledore can do no wrong."

They both took a step forward that somehow managed to get them across the room and directly in front of the Minister's desk.

"The law does not apply to this Dumbledore?"

Fudged looked like he'd eaten something especially spicy. He brought out another kerchief, fanned his face then dabbed his forehead once more.

"Sirs I promise you I have an invested interest in the concerns of all magical citizens."

"Unless it contradicts Dumbledore." Lucius added helpfully.

The vampires crossed their arms and stood very tall and straight. This paired with the baring of their pointed teeth and flashing of their inhuman eyes was an intimidating sight indeed and perhaps the most intimating sight to be seen inside of the Minister's office in quite some time.

It is an often believed incorrect thought that revolutions and movements of politic power plays happened on _grand stages_ with _great debates_ and the flashing of cameras and weeks of questionable articles in the paper. Lucius Malfoy knew the secret. The verbal battles and manipulations that had the largest effect on the world always happened with no witnesses. They were subtle moments the public at large would never learn of.

Politics was an art.

"We advise you to rethink you position, Minister." The Lords smiled.

The minister grasped the edge of his desk, smiling genially.

"Listen, I simply can not run about cursing Dumbledore's name. He is a war hero and very popular with the public. I sympathize, but no one would ever get a chance to consider it. He'd have his people working on it and give s-"

The Lords smacked their hands on the desk and glared.

"Allow us to make our position clear. The woman in question is our niece, the current Head of our Family and our House. If you do not aid us in her rescue we will consider it an _active act of aggression_ against our family and, as such, we shall not hesitate to use all means at hand to inform the world of your actions. Your empty words and cautions mean nothing to our kind. You are but a moment in our mind's eye, a flicker and then you're gone. You, sir, are nothing. You are a name and a title but you have no substance, no steel to your bones to stand for anything. We can handle this quietly or we can handle it publicly. The choice if your for the next minute. Then we shall choose for you."

The Minister waved his hands. "Prima Grimm you say? Why I never..we all thought...are you _quite_ certain your information-"

The Lords growled.

Fudge jumped. Honestly he looked close to hyperventilating.

Lucius cleared his throat. "Minister I myself have confirmed the information. Prima Grimm has been held against her will at a muggle facility for over a decade without her family's knowledge. The man who signed the permission for her entry was Albus Dumbledore."

"No really. He must have had some reason for his actions. This is Albus Dumbledore you're accusing, I simply don't thin-"

"They cut her throat open. They bound her magic, cut open her throat and took away her ability to speak."

Fudge stared, face slightly green.

"They left her the ability to sing though. She has a lovely voice, did you know? They stare at her through glass and keep her drugged on muggle potions."

The vampires stiffened. Lucius didn't know if Draco told them what he'd seen. Apparently not.

The wards gave a slight hum. Too much time was passing here, the longer this went on the higher the chance of someone overhearing something they shouldn't. The Minister needed to refresh his memory of pureblood dances. These politics were the subtle arts of winning wars without the public knowing one _occurred._ It was a deadly dance and today Lucius didn't have the patience to lead or wait for him to catch on. Stumbling wasn't an option. The man couldn't rely on other people to guide him through anymore. One time that was Lucius, in exchange for help pushing certain laws and bills through. But as with everything in politics, things change. If he couldn't keep up Lucius was more than happy to replace him with someone who at least knew the steps.

He stalked forward, hooked his cane on the Minister's collar and dragged him half across the desk. Lucius leaned forward to purr into his ear.

"You will send aurors to retrieve Lady Grimm. You will have her brought to my private ward at St Mungos. You will tell no one what happened in this room nor will you allow any hint of your knowledge of these events or so help me Merlin I will drag you to that facility myself and give you a day inside to think things over. Am I clear?"

It wasn't a bluff. Lucius was clever enough with enough wealth and power that he didn't need to resort to bluffing often. The floo in the Minister's office was active and did not record the signature that made use of it. It enabled Fudge to see whomever he needed without fear of public opinion. The same floo would allow Lucius to drag him through it and apparate to the muggle facility. He was far more powerful than the shorter man, a silencing hex and a temporary binding and he'd be_ just_ as helpless as Prima. That man _knew_ he could do it. After all, the Minister had requested Lucius to bully various political rivals over the years. Unfortunately, this power was never under the Minister's control. Lucius was not a lapdog, he was a dark wizard. It was time the Minister remembered with whom _he_ was dealing.

Fudge gave a curt nod, swallowed and took a shaky breath. "Yes, yes that's for the best."

Politics, like art, was always _so_ much more meaningful when it got personal.


	29. Interlude 2: Something Wicked

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_There's no mercy for me, no crying myself to sleep_

_No mercy for me, nightmares have become my dreams_

_No mercy for me, good morning reality_

_Let me go, let me go_

_All you see are the whips, the Maseratis Ferraris_

_So they don't sympathize, don't nobody feel sorry_

_No mercy_

_Good morning reality_

* * *

Her body was a prison, her mind was a prison. Memories made up the poison on the walls. No matter how far she walked in the grassy expanse of her inner sanctum in the center of her thoughts, she couldn't escape the prison. It was large and wide and clear with blue skies. But the sky was only the lid of her box, the roof of her prison, the top of the cage. It gave the illusion of freedom and that made it hurt even more. She could beat against the bars, and glimpse in the spaces between vivid flashes of the real world outside, she could scream and curse and yell. No one would hear, no one would see.

Sometimes she didn't know if the prison was fake, or if she was. Maybe it was real and she couldn't touch it because she was unworthy, as fake things often are, to partake of the real things. She thought that maybe, once, she'd known what wind felt like and rain and even knew the sound of the rolls of thunder. She could almost swear those things were real, when she was especially close to the walls, and then she'd move away. The walls burned. The feelings faded. And then she wasn't so sure anymore.

Abruptly her prison cracked.

Vaguely she knew the blurry figure in front of her was a person. A nurse, that is what it was called.

"I don't know what you did," said a voice far too loud for her liking, "but now there's been an inquiry. Did you think they'd _rescue_ you? Did you think we'd let you_ leave?_ Do you have any idea how much you're worth? How much we get for making sure you never leave?"

A pressure around her neck forced her to her feet. The pressure hurt but she was glad for it, she wasn't certain she could keep herself up on her own just yet. It took a while for the prison to fade and the real world to replace it. The nurse knew it. Maybe she was expecting her to give an answer? She tried to tell her she hadn't done anything but she couldn't seem to get the words out. She felt the air in her lungs, the vibration in her throat but something was getting twisted on the way out. She swallowed. It hurt. This was familiar...hadn't they done something? She couldn't remember.

"I don't know how you've managed to bypass your medication again, but we're going to put a stop to it. This isn't going to happen again, you're going to be a right _good girl_ when we're done."

_We?_

More blurry figures. But not quite as blurry. She could see uniforms now and she was pretty sure she was in the clear room. Not the examination room. That was good wasn't it? But the nurse sounded upset. What had she done? She couldn't remember. Another attempt at an apology was fruitless.

Then she was standing on her own. Her arms flailed for a moment, balancing. Her legs shook but she stayed standing. A blast of water smacked her back against the wall. She gargled a gasp, hands pushing against the water, head shaking back and forth. Trying to escape the water. It stopped. She staggered, one arm holding her against the wall, gulping in great breaths. A hand from one of the other figures, a different nurse, pulled her forward, her bare feet slipping in the wet tiles.

Those hands pushed her, sliding, toward another figure that pushed her toward another. The water came again, she slipped with a crack to the floor. Her headed pounded, her vision spotted and she might have cried out if she could breathe. The water stopped. They hauled her to the feet. It started again.

_Water_

A game. she remembered now. They liked to play with her. This was the only game they knew. She didn't like it.

_Water._

And she just wished she knew what she did wrong, they never did it unless she was bad. But she'd been good hadn't she? She couldn't remember the last time her prison let her out, what could she have done?

_She couldn't breathe!_

It stopped. She opened her eyes, spit out water and tried to sit up. A boot landed on her chest, heavy, slamming her back to the tile.

The bands around her arms were itching, they didn't appreciate the water game as much as her tormentors seemed to. Little bits of electricity shocked along her arm. Magic. That's what it was. But they didn't know that. They didn't like when she explained it either. So she didn't say anything now. He stared down at her with contempt, and raised a bottle into her line of vision. She didn't know what it was, but the man was smiling. It was going to hurt. A whimper broke out and she jolted her body, squirmed, tried to get away. Two other nurses fell on her and held her down. There was a wetness on her cheeks that had nothing to do with the water from the hose. Her breathing quickened and she did her best not to panic.

The man unscrewed the cap. "Scream pretty for me." He tittled it over her arms, where the bands wound around them. It burned and it stung and seared and the flames of pain encompassed her mind entirely. There was nothing else. Only the pain.

She screamed.

Fire. So much fire. It burned so why did she feel so cold? She couldn't see anything anymore. Blackness. Her body was heavy. A sharp kick to her ribs sent a flash of different kind of pain. Her eyes snapped open.

"Again."

_The bottle tilted._

"Again."

_She screamed._

"Again."

_Blacked out._

"Again."

_They woke her up._

"Again."

_A new game. _

"Again."

She was sorry. Whatever she did she was sorry. Couldn't they tell? She didn't know what she did but if they would only tell her she wouldn't do it again! She wouldn't. She'd promise. Anything to make it stop. Why wouldn't they stop? She'd be a good girl. She would. But she already knew. They'd play the game and then it was back to the prison. She couldn't go back. Not again. She'd be good!

_The bottle tilted._

This happened as far back as she could remember. The prison. A game. The prison. A cycle. All that changed were the faces of the other players. She just wanted it to stop. Sometimes she thought about how to do it. How to kill them. The muggles. All kinds of elaborate things, like trapping them in pits and burying them alive or sealing their souls in mirrors or dropping them in the middle of the ocean. It made her smile. To think of revenge. She had never been the violent sort before. She thought she might be now.

_She screamed._

This too shall pass. The game would end. She'd return to the prison. The prison would break and she'd return to the game. She could take the pain, because she had to. Because she knew the truth. The truth these horrid muggles would never understand. The worst sort of pain wasn't seen in asylums or hospitals or on battlefields or in the streets. It wasn't the sort easily identified with tear sickened cheeks, and it couldn't be stitched up or forgiven or wiped away. It lived inside of you. A monster with gnashing teeth just behind your skin that scratched and tore at your heart and your soul.

_Blacked out._

And there was nothing in this world that could make it go away.

_They woke her up._

There was a reason she had to keep going. She couldn't remember what it was right now, but it was a very good reason.

"Again."

She screamed.


	30. Welcome to the Masquerade

**Summary:** When Harry when down into the Chamber, instead of saving Ginny he decided he wanted to learn to twirl his wand like Riddle. Oh what one little difference can do.

**Characters**: Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings:** Snark-fu, complicated pureblood customs and politics, plots for world domination, cover ups, vampiric uncles, torture, manipulation, secrets, spontaneous adventures into non-sense

**Questions? Comments? Limericks?** Put it in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Once a world of glittering hope this world is not the world we knew, the only light left to shine is between me and you_

_I had once believed in angels, they were everywhere I looked, a gentle hand guiding me to give more than I took_

_But I have died a thousand times watching all these angels fall, their lonely eyes haunt me still_

_We will avenge them all_

_And they will never break our spirit, we will never turn and run_

_And we will rise stronger still when we stand as one_

* * *

Lord Malfoy spent several hours at the ministry before flooing back and informing Harry and Draco that he'd be gone for a while getting things in order. Harry, still a bit numb, followed Draco through the floo to the Leaky Cauldron. When he didn't respond to the blonde's attempts to talk to him about what they'd seen earlier the older boy left Harry to his own devises and went to sleep. But Harry couldn't sleep. He couldn't. His mind was quiet and empty and he just didn't feel anything. He ought to tell Tom what happened but he couldn't bring himself to think of it. Every time he did his body froze up and Harry was filled with sheer panic. Albus Dumbldore locked his mum away. His mind kept screaming it at him.

Harry growled and paced along the length of the room. He was fine, he was _fine_ dammit.

Glancing out the window that looked over Diagon Alley Harry noticed a bit of light coming farther down the alley. Curious, and looking for anything to keep his mind off his mother, Harry pulled on his boots and a dark tunic, grabbed a cloak and top-toed from the room. Down the stairs and through the dining area Harry made his way to the wall that opened into to Diagon Alley. Then he stood there for a bit. The place looked different at night, no bustling crowds or screaming children or students laden with school supplies. It was entirely empty. Walking past one of the Apothecary stores he could see lights on, and more in another shoppe further down the way. But it was quiet, and that was un-nerving far more than the darkness. In fact, he rather enjoyed looking up to see the stars. He was too tired to take notice when he was at the Dursleys, and seeing them without having to write down calculations, huddled on the Astronomy tower made it a bit of a novelty.

He stopped when he neared the path he knew lead to Knockturn Alley. The summer previous Harry found himself down the infamous alley, his panicked flight out of it was not one if his best moments. The small Gryffindor pulled up his hood, took a breath and stepped into the alley. Making progress down the alley, adrenaline pumping, he had to reign in the urge to giggle. He forgot about his responsible sense of staying incognito at the next turn.

Everything was lit up! Fairy lights looped and criss crossed over head, lanterns lit doorways, windows glowed brightly and there were people everywhere holding paper lanterns. Hundreds of them. Just down the way he saw vendors on either side of the path selling treats and trinkets. People were smiling. It wasn't the boisterous, chaotic mess that Diagon Alley produced, but Harry liked it just the same. No one paid him any real mind, other than a friend smile of his own. A lot of people had hoods of their own or half masks or, as he heard two older witches commenting, glamours. In fact he saw several creative masks, some that looked like foxes and wolves and even someone with cat ears and a tail. Harry did a double take, turning around to look. One of the ears moved and he felt his jaw drop open. The boy, maybe a year or so older than Harry saw him looking and gave him a wink. Harry flushed and turned back around hastily. He shouldn't be staring, he didn't like people staring at_ him_ did he?

Music drifted down the alley, though he couldn't tell where it was coming from. He saw cat boy again, dancing with two other teens also older than Harry. Neither of them had cat ears, but he didn't seem to hold that against them. It smelled wonderful. Throwing caution to the wind, or as far as he dared, Harry purchased an odd treat of large, soft nuts, cheese and dried pineapple impaled on small skewers. It was fantastic. He bought six more. Reaching what he guessed to be the middle of the alley the path opened into a square with fires in the corners and dancers with silk streamers in the middle that clapped their hands against the their hips, twirled and stomped. He realized this is where the music came from. Narrowing his eyes Harry watched them carefully, determined to learn the trick of it.

There weren't any instruments that he could see...just the dancers.

"Magic."

Harry jumped, hand to his chest. "What?" he snapped, looking to his left. It was a taller boy with glossy black hair, smiling widely. "It's magic. Their magic. Our magic. They act as conduits and filter it all through them and then release it back into the air, it vibrates so quickly it makes the music, its also why everyone's so giddy. Is this your first time? The big festivals are always a bit overwhelming but you get used to it."

Harry nodded, numbly, glad his hood, and the fact he was supposed to face the person talking to him, kept the other boy from seeing how hard he was staring. His eyes were utterly black, much too large, with little white at the edges, and the pupil was impossible to discern from the iris. It was like looking at a creepy china doll. Oh, doll-boy was talking.

"...but now it doesn't bother me as much. Of course the Autumn festival, during samhain, that's the one everyone talks about but we all know its the winter festival on new years that you want to come to. The _maschere_ think they're too good for it, well not all of them but you know what I mean..."

Harry stood there, bemused. The boy just kept going, never leaving a silence long enough for Harry to fill if had felt the urge to respond. He used his hands and gestured as he spoke, smiling the entire time. Harry had never met someone so thrilled to meet him without knowing who -or what- he was.

"...and then there's-"

The boy cut off with a yelp. Beside him stood an even older doll-boy, his hair worn long and pulled back from his face, hand raised from where he'd smacked the back of little doll-boy's head. Doll-boy scowled, older doll-boy smiled serenely. "I remember you telling me you would wait for me at the fortune booth across from Dante's shoppe. Interestingly enough, you weren't there."

Doll-boy gave an eye roll with his too large orbs. "I became bored."

Older doll-boy smacked the back of his head again. Doll-boy cursed.

"Mind your language."

Harry laughed. Both boys froze and turned back to Harry, having quite forgotten him. Harry waved a hand.

"It's fine. I'm used to people forgetting I exist."

Little Doll-boy gave a quick bow and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. This is my brother Elia, and I'm Marcel."

Older doll-boy -Elia- pinched the bridge of his nose. "You were talking with him without even introducing yourself? You're going to scare him away and he'll never come back for a festival and it'll be entirely the fault of your derision for proper etiquette. The point is to make people feel welcome, not smothered and offended."

Marcel stared at him blankly. "Right, fascinating." He turned to Harry, "What should I call you?"

That was actually a good question. It hadn't occurred to him that he might have to give a name and a part of him told him to say nothing and walk away. After all Harry wasn't even supposed to be here. But who cared? He hadn't been forbidden from making friends. "Arison." Close enough to Harrison that he'd answer when called. Simple enough. They hadn't given him last names so he wasn't going to use one either, and it was easier with only one name to remember. If he had to he'd give Grimm rather than Potter. Marcel gave a smile and a nod.

"Arison then." He turned to Elia. "See? Now we know each other."

Elia gave a long suffering sigh. "Let's get a mask for you so you're not wearing that hood all night alright? We won't look when you put it on. Or at least I won't, Cicero knows what _Marcel_ will do."

Marcel opened his mouth, then shut it and gave a shrug. Harry grinned.

"Yes I'd like that."

"Excellente. This way. Marcel stay with me or I'll drag you back home by your ear."

Elia lead them around the open square, skirting the edge of the dancers, to a long table. White linen ran the length of it with masks of all kinds in displays on it. Masks that covered a strip about your eyes, mask you held by a stick with one hand, masks that covered the upper half of your face and cloth masks that covered the bottom half of your face. Harry glanced around at the masks some of the others were wearing then back at the table. He'd definitely fit in now. Probably the one time in his life no one would question him walking about with a mask on.

"Look around and choose an appropriate mask for your-"

Harry knew exactly which one he'd use. It was up higher, folded on a little platform. He picked it up gently, rubbing his hands along the cloth. He blinked in surprise and the texture then grinned. This would do perfectly. Harry turned away from his new friends and careful pulled the cloth under his hood, over his head and down around his neck. Making certain his hood was still in place he grasped the cloth and pulled it up over his chin, mouth and nose. He hesitated a minute, pulled off his glasses and stashed them in a pocket. That should do. Ah, and the scar. Harry drew back his hood, reaching his other hand up to smooth his fringe over his forehead. It'd grown longer over the summer anyway and he felt secure that it would keep his lightening scar hidden. He wasn't too concerned with them recognizing him, Draco hadn't at first and he'd known Harry for years, but it was best to be safe rather than sorry. He didn't really know these people, they seemed nice but hey, they could be psychopaths.

Harry turned around to his possibly psychopathic friends to show off his mask. They stared. Harry smiled, pleased. The mask was woven, somehow, with tiny almost black emerald scales, with a design in the middle forming a mouth and fangs, glittering with silver thread. He was a snake.

Eli was the first to recover. "Well chosen." He voice came out a little weak.

"Look at his eyes!" Exclaimed Marcel. Elia immediately smacked him over the head.

"Would you put a filter on that mouth, Marcel? Don't stare it's rude."

"You were staring too."

"Only for a moment and I had the decency not to point it out. Are you trying to offend him?" Elia turned to Harry and gave a bow, "Arison I apologize for my brother's outburst and my own misconduct. I realize that there are individuals such as yourself who come down here with the purpose of being able to move around without drawing attention to yourself or feeling any of the hate and discriminations readily available by the_ maschere._ We have disrespected our clan by treating you like an exhibit in a museum and then speaking about you as if you were not present."

Marcel stiffened during his brothers speech before turning and offering a quick bow of his own.

Harry glanced between them, what did his eyes matter? He started to say it didn't matter, then stopped. Elias was very formal and he wondered if waving it off would offend him. Thinking carefully and channeling his inner Malfoy he said "I accept your apology Elias and express my hope we can move forward without looking back?"

Elias straightened and offered him a smile that Harry returned.

In comparison, as Harry followed his new friends through the crowed, the other masks were far more interesting this his own. In Harry's opinion at least. Of course, he didn't see a single other snake but considering it was considered dark and though everyone here probably was dark if not a dark creature of some sort, they were pretending not to be, so blatantly showing it wasn't on the agenda. Harry didn't much care at this point. Being friends with Malfoys and Dark Lords did wonder's for one's sense of not giving a damn. He stumbled when the diary burned in his pocket. Harry knelt down to look at it inconspicuously when an odd pair of bright purple boots, and their owner, tumbled over him. The body on top of him stood up quickly and moved away. Harry rubbed his side and stood, turning and freezing at the sight of twinkling blue eyes outlined in a simple gold mask above a long beard decorated with blinking baubles.

"Well hello down there, I'm afraid I didn't see you." Came the sickeningly cheerful voice.

He squeaked, taking a half-step backward, making an aborted moved toward his wand. Elia and Marcel were beside him in an instant.

"Everything alright Arison?" Elia, placed himself in front of Harry protectively, eyeing the man before him.

They didn't know who he was, and in the sea of strangely attired individuals, all with masks, Harry would not have recognized him either. But for those damned twinkling eyes. In fact this was the last place he would expect Dumbledore to be.

Harry swallowed.

* * *

**AN: I know I was gone for ages, I am so freaking sorry guys.**

**-Pseu**


	31. Fire and Fury

**Summary:** When Harry when down into the Chamber, instead of saving Ginny he decided he wanted to learn to twirl his wand like Riddle. Oh what one little difference can do.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings:** Snark-fu, complicated pureblood customs and politics, plots for world domination, cover ups, vampiric uncles, torture, manipulation, secrets, spontaneous adventures into non-sense

**Questions? Comments? Limericks?** Put it in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Don't turn away, don't give in to the pain, don't try to hide_

_Though they're screaming your name_

_Don't close your eyes, God knows what hides behind them, don't turn out the light_

_Never sleep, never die_

_I'm frightened by what I see but somehow I know there's much more to come_

_Immobilized by my fear and soon to be blinded by tears_

_Catch me as I fall, say you're here and it's all over now_

* * *

Dumbledore stepped to the side, blue robes swinging, to glance over the lot of them curiously. His eyes landed on Harry and narrowed a tiny fraction. The older wizard made to move toward him and Harry bit back a scream. He knew, contrary to popular belief, people didn't usually come running when they heard a scream. That wasn't how most of them operated, and even in this sea of people he knew they would ignore it, not wishing to get involved with something that made people scream, or they would look at one another and ask 'Did you hear that?' and when their fellows returned that they did not, though they had, they would be satisfied and continue with their lives. No one really cared enough about anyone else to help them, not strangers anyway. At least, they'd never done so for Harry.

"I'm certain this was just a mistake. I didn't intend to hurt the lad I assure you. Perhaps if you let me...take a look...I can reassure myself the little fellow is alright?"

Marcel grasped the sleeve of Harry's tunic and moved him behind him, looking down at him over his shoulder. "Are you alright kid?" he whispered.

Harry shook his head no, shooting a look over at Dumbledore. Marcel pulled him close against his back, hand tightening around his wrist, he brought his other hand across his chest and gave a shallow bow to Dumbledore. "Thank you for the consideration however I believe we can attend to our younger _brother_ ourselves, sir."

Elia's lips pulled upward. "Exactly. This is his first time and he has been a tad overwhelmed with all of the people and the noise, I think it's best if we handle it on our own."

Dumbledore stopped short.

"Your brother?"

The sounds of the crowd pressed on the from all sides, the tinkling of bells and small laughs swirling around them but not quite touching them in the semi-silence that followed, Dumbledore, Marcel and Elia each measuring the other party. Harry thought there were limits to the dimensions of fear, having been in numerous occasions where fear was rampant and felt knowledgeable in it's inner workings, until this very moment. Dumbledore a once known mountain of reassurance had become the known unknown and all he could feel was boundless amount of terror. Inside of him, in a small bit still able to function, a voice called out to him to run or to attack. This man stole your mother from you, it screamed at him. But the rest of him was frozen, terrified. Harry _hated_ himself for it.

The hand on his wrist tightened once. Harry glanced up to see Marcel looking down at him.

"Close your eyes." he murmured, and Harry, not knowing when he'd become so trusting of dark non-humans, closed his eyes. Carefully, Marcel lead him around to his front, turning him to the side, one arm around him in a half-hug.

"A family of _Argent?_" asked Dumbledore.

Harry felt Marcel stiffen.

Elia's clear, authoritative voice rang out. "I fear you may have been ill prepared for a festival sir, you see it is bad form to ask a stranger such things or indeed your friends, unless the information is volunteered. It is, frankly, none of your business."

Did he just insult Albus Dumbledore...politely?

"Yes, yes, quite. Well I shall continue then, I hope you enjoy the party."

"Festival." Harry corrected when he thought the older wizard might be out of earshot.

He didn't dare to look to make certain, he didn't dare to say anything more. That man would not be so easily fooled, he knew, and he would have to be careful. How would he get back to his room at the Inn? The thought of walking alone in this world of lights and music roiled slickened darkness in his chest. This was no longer a happy place for Harry, it was a trap. If he left and Dumbledore saw him, he wonder why the supposed brother was on his own. He only to see Harry return to the cauldron and wait for him to come out. When he did not he would ask the bartender and find out that Harry was staying their for the summer. He would know.

_He would know._

"Are you alright Arison?"

Harry opened his eyes. Elia kneeled before him, large black eyes searching his face as if he hoped to glean the answers of the universe there. Harry opened his mouth to answer him but at that moment his adrenaline, which had spike twice in the last hour, decided to leaved him. It was too much. The man who stole his mother from him had been within reach. He could have thrown Harry into a place like that. He could have- _'She's got a lovely voice, I call her the little bird.'_

And it all snapped. Prima Grimm behind glass, one of his parents still living, Dumbledore hiding his birthright, Dumbledore placing him with the Durselys, Dumbledore keeping Prima away from him, and the man was here. He should have killed him where he stood. The killing curse wasn't hard, it was _force_ magic, based on using your magic like a tool combined with your intentions. You had to mean it. And Harry would have meant it.

_But he just let him go, he let him go, he let him go, he let him go, he let him..._ The voice in the corner of his mind stormed and raged.

A shushing sound came into his ears. Dizzily he opened his eyes to find himself in someones arms, Harry panicked and tensed.

"Calm yourself Arison, it is I. You are safe."

Harry swallowed and pulled back to see Elia. Marcel walked beside them, his face concerned. Elia did that calculated glancing him over thing again and Harry really hoped the older boy couldn't read minds.

"Where is your guard little one? They must be looking for you by now and we should tell them what has happened."

Guard. Oh, Tom! Harry reached down and pulled out the diary. His hands were still shaking when he opened it. Harry cursed, he'd never be able to write out a message explaining everything like this, and it had to be Tom, he couldn't think of a way to get a hold of Draco and he certainly wasn't about to summon his uncles here. They seemed more of an act now and ask questions later type, though he adored them, and he didn't want his new friends to get killed before his could properly explain. Of course, Tom wasn't much of a step up really. He held the diary out.

"You can write in this to reach the one who guards me. Explain quickly and he will respond."

Elia gave a nod, took the diary with one hand, tightening his other arm around Harry, and handed it to Marcel. _"Raccontare la sua guardia di venire per lui subito."_

Marcel nodded and started to walk away, "Call me 'little pretty' so he knows I truly know you." Marcel looked over his shoulder, amused, and gave a smile. He disappeared into the crowd.

"He calls you little pretty?" Asked Elia, taking Harry's chin and looking at him. "Fitting nick name I think."

Harry flushed, and ducked his head. He felt Elia's laughter rumble in his chest.

He couldn't understand, though he replayed the night several times, what he had done to earn such loyalty in two complete strangers. He vowed to remember their actions and pay them back for it. They had no idea the danger they'd placed themselves in when they stood between him and Dumbledore, the things that man was capable of. Harry shuddered at the thought. Elia gave him a squeeze, one hand threading through his hair. Such concern from strangers when the family he grew up with wouldn't have blinked at him getting injured. It was enough to make him want to cry.

_"Little Pretty?_" Harry sat up straight.

He looked over his shoulder. "Tom!"

He would be embarrassed about his voice breaking later, because Tom was here, Marcel beside him, no mask or hood for him. As if the world were able to sense the danger, the crowd parted before him as Moses parted the Red Sea, skittering back away from him. Harry knew there were dogs in the world which, when you met them, remind you that despite thousands of years of man-made evolution, the dog is two breaths from being a wolf. Tom is such a dog, advancing deliberately, purposefully, the wilderness made flesh, his rage obvious. Tom reached them and stopped and flicked his fiery eyes over him before zeroing in on Harry's own eyes, seeing more than he had any right to see without someone's permission. Reading and sensing the emotions coming to him through the link, analyzing them along with whatever information Marcel had given him.

Harry held out his arms without thinking, and Tom held out his arms to take him from Elia and then He really _did_ cry.


	32. Sinners and Saints

**Can You Hear Me Now?**

* * *

**Summary:** When Harry when down into the Chamber, instead of saving Ginny he decided he wanted to learn to twirl his wand like Riddle. Oh what one little difference can do.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings:** Snark-fu, complicated pureblood customs and politics, plots for world domination, cover ups, vampiric uncles, torture, manipulation, secrets, spontaneous adventures into non-sense

**Questions? Comments? Limericks?** Put it in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

_Save yourself from all the lies of the beautiful people_

_It's time to run from the lies of the beautiful people_

_I feel so traumatized, doped up and televised_

_Life can be cruel and insane_

_But we've got these ugly scars on our infected hearts _

_Maybe it's time for a change_

_Just run and hide from the lies of the beautiful people_

_Save yourself_

* * *

Tom Riddle was an overprotective mother hen.

It was nearly two in the morning. Harry had been there for several hours with and without Tom. He could only imagine the tantrum Draco was liable to through when he found out Harry didn't take him with him. Not only did he take his position as First Companion seriously, the blonde would likely be put out he didn't get to see the festival without an adult. As Harry had done. Albeit, that hadn't lasted long. Elia certainly looked old enough to be of age and Tom was technically fifty some years old.

Harry's fingers played with the buttons on Tom's cloak. The buttons were real silver. Silver with tiny little designs on them of intricate Celtic knots. He did take a moment to wonder who on earth would ever get close enough to Tom to see the designs. It was a tad superfluous in the grander scheme of things. Still, they were nice buttons.

Experimentally he gave a despondent sigh and was not surprised when he was ignored. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for Tom's 'rescue'. It was more the fact the sixteen year old had refused to let Harry out of his sight or indeed out of his arms. For the last hour and a half. It wouldn't be nearly so embarrassing if Marcel would only keep silent.

"There-there Arison." Marcel cooed. "He's just worried you'll trip another powerful wizard and almost start a war in the middle of the alleys..."

"Oh shut up Marcel!" Harry snapped.

He raised a brow and waved one of those treats on stick in the air. "Better be nice to me or I won't give you any more food."

Harry did not pout. His not pouting got him a sweet.

"What no thank you?"

When Harry studiously ignored him the large eyed boy grinned widely. Harry felt a sense of dread. Marcel then affected a look of concern. "Tamas I think Arison looks a little flushed. Do you think he's getting a fever?"

In the resulting impromptu medical examination Harry glared at Marcel. "I will get you back for this." Marcel was spared from answering Harry's -no doubt terrifying- glare by the entrance of several wizards all in green robes. They were followed by a large bald man with an earing in red robes. He looked like he didn't want to be there.

This alone was not all that exciting. it was the fact the sounds of merriment died down. Harry sat up straighter in Tom's arms trying to get a good look over the crowd.

"Who are they?" He whispered, instinctively not wanting to bring attention to himself.

"Hunters." Said Marcel. His cheerful face paling.

Harry frowned. "Who?"

"Wizards that like to cause trouble for anybody who doesn't fit their definition of a proper human being. They are especially viscous toward non humans. They tend to lump dark wizards in with us even though dark wizards are human beings as well." Elia answered with distaste.

A man was moving forward to greet the intruders. "Kingsley." He said, "Is everything alright?"

"We are only passing through Lysan-"

"Just came to check out your lovely festival." Interrupted a thin man with an oily voice and a gold medallion pinned to his robe. "Starting a day early aren't you? In the middle of the night in the lesser alleys I see. How...fitting."

The first man raised an open hand. "No need for that, sir, we're here celebrating on our own turf and we haven't cause anyone any problems. Why don't you join us and we can all continue peacefully? Or you can go on your way and we'll go on ours."

"I'm afraid not Lysandros. A meeting like this needs to be sanctioned you know. You all_ do_ have your identification cards on you I hope?" He had a smug gleam to his eye.

Elia hissed under his breath. "Identification cards. Half of these people can't afford them. The other half aren't allowed into the ministry even if they wanted them."

"What was that my little _Infectioanimas_?" The man called out. He was zeroing in on the long haired boy.

Elia and several others stiffened. "I was pointing out, _maschere_, that asking for identification cards you know we haven't got because of the legislation _you_ pushed through is a waste of time. Why not order us to disperse or arrest us if that's what you're here for? Why play with us?"

It was said in a polite tone of voice but it was the rudest Harry had even heard Elia. It was odd to hear the harsh undertone to the dark eyed boy's smooth voice.

"Elia!" Marcel grabbed at Elia's arm. His brother shook it off and started forward toward the man who was looking rather gleeful.

Tom sat Harry down. He spoke softly into his ear. "It is an essential part of the self-righteous light wizard's justice system that you should be condemned not only in innocence but also in ignorance. Most of these people wouldn't haven known that if Elia didn't point it out. They would probably have panicked. The fact is he can't legally do anything. The laws who regulations he's enacting were pushed though himself and could be seen as abusing the law in his own self interest. Some of them are recent. This could be viewed as a power play. An attempt to show the public how well they work or maybe even to enforce stricter ones. He's the worst sort of politician. Rather like Draco's father -I meant that in a strictly complimentary fashion if asked- keeping his political rivals engaged in one of thousands of stages of this or that less important cause. Encouraging them subtly to trip one another up on slippery precedents, groping knee-deep in technicalities, running face first into walls of words. A clever bigot. Unfortunately yet again most of the people don't know things like this. Elia is surprisingly educated in that respect."

Marcel took one step after him before Tom pulled him back.

"Stay." He ordered.

Marcel struggled. "He's going to get himself killed."

"Maybe," Tom allowed, "but your brother is an adult. You stay here with Arison. I'll go after your brother." Harry was thrust into Marcel, who held him tightly. His fear for his brother making it just a bit too tight.

"-I'm wounded you would accuse me of such horrid things. What use is it for me to be so underhanded when I have always been obvious in my lack of...trust...in you _people_ to control your baser instincts and maintain the illusion of humanity? Some of your brothers and sisters have a rougher time of it as you well know. The _Voleur deSang_ and the Feral to name the more prominent. I have the right to secure confirmation of the proper conduct of such a large gathering of dangerous sub-humans" He paused, "And some of their regrettably human supporters. Am I not?"

Elia gave him a pleasant smile that was all sharp teeth if you were looking for it. "Sub-Humans? I'm afraid I have a large amount of curiosity within my DNA. Would you be so kind as to differentiate if you meant 'sub' as in a 'sub-category' meaning a derivative of the human species, or if you meant 'sub' as in 'subservient' as in a species subservient or inferior to the human species?"

The gobsmacked faces on several of the green clad men made Harry smile. Their seeming leader however was not similarly effected. If anything he looked someone what excited.

"While I concede newly changed beings that were once quite human may fall into the first category -and I do in fact see Goblins and the Centaur among that category- the rest of them fall firmly into the second. You are quiet well spoken. I take it you are only a _half_ Argent?"

Tom arrived in time to intervene that dangerous line of questioning. "Let's not resort to questioning one another's heritage. Sabinus, yours is less than preferred."

Sabinus' eyes narrowed. "Only in certain circles, young master. I hold higher regard than the vermin you surround yourself with."

Even as an unknown in a crowd Tom had enough presence to be regarded with a respectful 'young master' rather than the not quite veiled insults the rest received. Harry had no idea where Tom was going with this. He was the future Dark Lord. While his older self favoured the Werewolves and the Vampire he had no idea what he felt about the rest of the dark creatures. He knew even less what his teenage self thought of them. The Heir of Slytherin hadn't acted anything other than exasperated when he learned of Harry's vampiric history.

"That depends on your definition of regard. I favour magic and talent above all else. While you have managed a political career for yourself, your OWLs and NEWTs were far less interesting. I do wonder though if it is the prejudices you've inherited from your mother's muggle culture that have coloured your opinion of 'sub-humans'. Surely, legitimate danger aside, you are basing your choices purely on personal experiences or at the least on political gain rather than the perspectives of...muggles?"

The man's face darkened and more than one of his companions eyed him oddly. They had been unaware of his bloodline and weren't too thrilled at the prospect of having been perpetuating muggle ideals. Even if they did agree with them.

Tom for his part kept his face openly curious and otherwise neutral. Betraying nothing of his real opinions on the matter.

"Of course not." Sabinus bit out.

"I sense some tension there. Interesting seeing how you've allied yourself with purebloods. Light ones perhaps but there is something there in your tones sir. Are you ashamed of your heritage or do you simply tire of, forgive me, pretentious purebloods pointing it out?"

"The latter."

"I see...and does this have anything to do with how...certain circles as you put it...tend to treat one of your blood? How they view you as less than them on the social food chain because you are tainted with muggle blood?"

Harry saw where this was going. Apparently everyone else did too.

"I try not to focus on that aspect of wizarding society and instead hope to be judged on my actions thus far rather than my past, however one might view it personally."

Elia joined in this time. "But surely you haven't forgotten how you were treated and perhaps continue to be treated regardless of your achievements? Surely there are those, no matter how high you climb politically or how well you dance to their pureblood customs, that will see you as nothing but the fatherless _mudblood_ you are? Does that not effect you?"

Sabinus fisted his hands.

"I don't suppose you've climbed so high in an effort to show them up and one day get them back for their treatment? To show them you belong here?" Tom added.

"Of course I belong here!" Sabinus growled. "I'm cleverer than half those idiots and one day they're going to wish they'd treated me better. The dark wizards were the worst Their stupid old wizarding lines and bragging rights..."

Marcel's jaw dropped. "He didn't just admit that."

Murmurs erupted in the alley.

"Enough, whats your point?" Sabinus demanded.

The future Dark Lord walked forward to meet the man at the head of their respective groups. Elia at his side. "I thought you'd never ask. Suppose that a man leaps from a burning building and lands on a man in the street below. Now, make the burning building pureblood wizarding society and the man beneath the mudbloods. Has the man below been made a victim with infinite cause for complaint and indefinite justification for retaliation?"

Sabinus glared at Tom. "...Not indefinite no."

"Is it not the same for 'sub-humans'?"

"Ha! You admit they do not have cause for retaliation." Sabinus exclaimed.

"I would give a provisional 'no' but only on these conditions." Tom agreed. "However the man leaping from the burning building must still make restitution as he can to the man who broke his fall. And he must not pretend that he never even landed on him."

"But-"

"_And_ he must base his case on the singularity and uniqueness of the original leap."

"Yes but-"

"It can't be leap! leap! leap! leap! for four generations and more. The people underneath, inferior though you may find them, cannot be expected to tolerate leaping on this scale and of this duration."

Elia cut in. "And one should not tell the people beneath one's feet that they were never stepped on. Or in this case fallen on. And as a result never bruised or wronged in the first place." While Sabinus had accepted the verbal abuse from Tom, having a sub-human join in must have been the last straw. He pulled back and struck Elia's cheek with a loud crack.

All Hell broke loose.

Harry didn't know what happened. One minute he was standing by Marcel, the next someone started throwing hexes. He was shoved backward. A blast of magic sent him flying. With a crash of tinkling glass and a thud he landed. Hard.

Harry turned his head and immediately reared back with a choked gasp from the bottle of Firewhiskey_ far_ too close to his face. He blinked. Green eyes glancing around his surroundings before it started to click.

"Oh I did not just get thrown through the window of a bar." He sat up slowly, one hand checking that his mask was still secure. With a stifled groan he crouched and peeked over a polished wooden counter littered with half empty pints and what might have been the stub of a cigar. All of it abandoned in favor of either joining the panic outside or huddling in a mass at the far corner. Whether they thought there was safety in numbers or were positioning themselves to use the other men as shields he was uncertain. Someone ought to tell them they made themselves an easier target like that.

He rolled his eyes. "This is way too cliche. I feel like I'm in a Western. I've got to go."

Harry pulled himself up and over the counter giving the cowardly men a wave. When none of them said a word he shrugged. Harry picked his way through the broken glass he would admit was partly his fault. In his defense he hadn't exactly volunteered to be a projectile weapon.

"Arison!"

Shoving his way through the bedlam was Marcel. Harry processed this as arms were thrown around him and he was squeezed. "Are you alright? What happened to you? One minute you were there and then you were just gone. I thought for sure your guard was going to murder me."

"My-?"

"There you are. I told you stay where you were."

"It wasn't my fault! I didn't ask to get thrown through a window."

Tom's eyes narrowed. "What."

"Did I say thrown through a window? What I meant to say was smothered by fluffy kittens."

There was a boom and the earth shook. All around them the fires went out sending them into semi-darkness. Only the lights from the stores still lit. The men in green robes were running through the crowed knocking people down. The entire back part of the alley was a mob of screaming dark creatures trying to flee. Tom tugged Harry close and cupped his face with both hands. "You need to get back to the inn, get your First Companion and get out of there. Go to the manor if you have to. Listen to me, are you listening? The hunters had no reason to be here to night unless _someone_ suggested it to them. Someone with enough political clout on the light side for their opinion to matter. Are you hearing me? He will be here if he isn't already. We can't let him find you."

Elia put a hand on Tom's arm and turned him around. The two older boys stared one another down. "Please allow me to lend aid. Together we will help the others and give enough distraction for Arison to get away. Marcel will see to his safety in your absence."

Harry's heart pounded against his chest. He realized he was hyperventilating. "B-but it's...he's the one who..." His voice and thoughts cut out when cool lips pressed against his forehead and he was shoved unceremoniously into another pair of arms. Tom and Elia darted into the crowd.

"Let's go," Marcel ordered softly He began pulling him along in the other direction. "Elia will keep Tamas out of trouble. Don't worry."

The way back to Diagon alley was blocked. Marcel lead him through to one of the smaller side alleys that connected to the muggle street. "We can go around the outside entrance. It's probably a better idea actually. I doubt anyone would look for you there."

Harry nodded numbly. His mind replayed Tom's body swallowed by the violent crowd. The alley branched off a little further ahead,. He could see a small muggle parking lot shoved between two old buildings A single street light flickered nearby.

"_There! That one is his brother._"

Marcel looked over his shoulder, black eyes widening. Harry turned to see the man called Sabinus and two other men in green coming down the alley.

"So," Harry asked. "Who's keeping _us _out of trouble?"

His large eyed friend stared at him. The next moment he was off across the street, leaping up and running along the back of someone's convertible. "Damn, damn, damn." Marcel cursed. He jumped into the front seat. Marcel smacked his hand against the dash. There was a flash. The car revved."Get in kid."

"What!?"

The car reversed and swung around. Marcel kicked open the passenger door. "Now Arison."

A hex whizzing over head made up Harry's mind for him. He stumbled forward and crawled onto the seat. The convertible sped forward with a screech. Harry jolted in panic his hands reaching for the door and slamming it shut. Immediately after he found the seatbelt and latched it on._ No one. _Thought Harry, watching Marcel tear their way through the narrow alley and out onto the main muggle street N_o one is ever going to believe what I did this summer._

* * *

**Pseudonymous Entity**

**2016**

* * *

_**Notes**: As of APRIL, year 2016 I have decided to go through and edit this story properly. I did go back once and a while for spelling but -having reviewed the entire work for the first time in a long time- I have decided it lacks some of the polish my newer stories are beginning to show. I will let you know which chapters are changed. _

_**AN:** This chapter edited 07/APR/2016_


	33. Leaps of Faith

**CYHMNCYHMNCYHMNCYHMNCYHMNCYHMNCYHMNCYHMNCYHMN**

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**Can You Hear Me Now?**

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**Summary:** When Harry when down into the Chamber, instead of saving Ginny he decided he wanted to learn to twirl his wand like Riddle. It was the beginnings of a beautiful, lethal friendship.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings:** Snark-fu, complicated pureblood customs and politics, plots for world domination, cover ups, vampiric uncles, torture, manipulation, secrets, spontaneous adventures into non-sense. Really just be warned. More than likely you'll see something you weren't expecting at some point and I have no real barriers for what I will or won't put in the story if I think it fits and works for the scene.

**AN:** Merry Christmas [INSERT WHATEVER HOLIDAY IF ANY YOU CELEBRATE HERE]. Here's the next chapter for you guys. I know it took a while I'm sorry, I've been updating my other stories as well. I do try to update as soon as I am able. I am trying to give all of my stories one or more updates between now and new years. Wish me luck.

**ANx2:** For those of you who do not know, in honour of meeting many review benchmarks I am accepting story ideas and suggestions for one shots or even events or characters you'd like to see in one of my story. If you would like to make a suggestion of your own simply add it in to the end of your review. You can even send a longer explanation afterward through PM if you like.

**-Pseu**

**Questions? Comments? Limericks?** Put it in your review. I'll answer if I can.

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_Are you a saint or a sinner_

_If love's a fight than I shall die with my heart on the trigger_

_They say before you start a war you better know what you're fighting for_

_If love is what you need - a solider I will be_

_I'm an angel with a shotgun fighting until the war's won, I__ don't care if heaven won't take me back_

_I'll throw away my faith just to keep you safe_

_I'm an angel with a shotgun fighting until the war's won, I don't care if heaven won't take me back_

_And I want to live not just survive _

_And I, I'll hide my wings tonight_

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_"Look out!"_

Riding in a car with an underage dark creature driving was just as exciting as you might think it to be.

_"Going right, might wanna duck kid."_

Harry unbuckled and slid beneath the seat, arms over his head. Glass cracked and shattered. He peaked up over the back of the front seat with wide eyes.

_"Seatbelt Arison."_

They were consistently _almost_ crashing. Marcel would turn the car and let it slide sideways before slamming his foot on the gas and shooting forward. He swerved them in and out of traffic, cutting through back alleys and all the while he did the sideways sliding thing. Or turned sharp and went on two bloody wheels to get through a tight squeeze. Harry, the only sane person in the vehicle, clutched the door and prayed to every deity he'd ever heard of even if he didn't know what they did or their temperament. If he was lucky one of them would get jealous he was praying to everyone but him or her and save him to spite the rest right? Right? Oh merlin if he died in a car crash the Dursleys would never let him live it down in the afterlife. The car, to Harry's visible joy, slid to a stop and parallel parked as it did so. Marcel looked very smug indeed. The Argent teen tapped the dash. A light flared and the engine cut.

"Not bad right?" Marcel grinned.

Harry was too busy rerunning through his list to thank every random deity he'd mentioned to bother pointing out the older boy was utterly mad. From that smile, he knew. Harry clicked off his seat belt, pushed the door open and let it shut. On legs only a little wobbly he made his way through the muggle side entrance of The Leaky Cauldron. This time there were no tall red heads reading books outside. It was still quite early so this wasn't entirely unexpected. Harry slipped through the door and through the dinning area to the stairs, keeping his hood up and attempting to draw as little attention to himself as he could manage. The stairs few squeaky steps gave him a horrible time. He leaped over them as he remember them, it was the dratted unbalanced feeling from Marcel's Hellish driving that was making it difficult. Using the railing like a lifeline Harry pulled himself up the stairs to the right floor.

He was contemplating which spell to use to wake his blonde roommate, while going through possible acceptable excuses, when he reached the door to their room. He couldn't remember ever being so glad for a door before. Now to get the blonde to the car without anyone noticing. He may have to silence him once there as he didn't imagine Malfoys went about in muggle cars all that often. Or ever.

Turns out he needn't have worried.

"Harry!"

A blonde blur boweled him over, holding him tightly. "Where on earth have you been? I've already penned a letter to your uncles apologizing profusely for failing in my duty as first companion and losing you of all things. Who loses people? Little ones at that? I am the worse first companion in existence? You weren't kidnapped were you? Oh they're going to kill me I just see it n-" Harry slapped his hand over the taller boy's mouth and waited for his brain to catch up. He could tell when it did because the muffled noises come from the Slytherin ended and he was treated to a silver eyed glare.

"Thank you. I wasn't kidnapped. You're a great first companion. I'm just _really_ good at being sneaky. Additionally, you're going to want to pack your things and come with me. I may or may not have been part of a group of people who may or may not have instigated a political fight down in the alleys during a dark festival that then turned into an actual physical fight with spells thrown in and," he took a breath, "Now we need to leave because I'm being chased by these guys in green robes who want to kidnap me and Marcel because he's Elia's brother and they think I'm Tom's brother." He beamed.

Draco was not impressed. "You went off to the festival without me! Here I was missing it on your behalf being a good little first companion but no you're just running off to do whatever you like. Eating delicious treats and seeing-" Fortunately Draco was nothing if not efficient and he shrunk and put away all of their things while he was pacing and ranting. Soon their were no signs of them ever having been there at all. Harry grabbed the other boy, who was still ranting and grumbling, and pulled him out of the door into the hall. There progressed was slowed significantly when they were almost at the end of the hall to the stairs. Marcel came sprinting up them. Seeing Harry he headed their way, catching Harry by the hand and yanking him, and subsequently Draco, behind them.

"Which room?" He called over a shoulder.

Harry blinked. "Er, one twenty two. Whats going on?"

Marcel opened it, pushed them in, shut it and started flicking his fingers about in a weaving motion through the air. It took a minute for Harry to realize he was warding the freaking door. Not only was that incredibly impressive, as the leaky cauldron had its own wards in general as did every magical establishment thus he had to be very subtle at his craft in deed to create wards within wards. Let alone without a wand.

"We've got a problem Arison." Said Marcel, turning to face them. His large black eyes seemed even larger and wider.

Harry resisted the urge to face palm. "Now what?"

"We can't go out that way." He pointed backward at the door. To be honest Harry had sort of figured that. "They followed us better than I thought they would. We need some other way out." Harry started looking around the room. Draco was surprisingly quiet, only taking all the information in. He was still do for a lecture later he was sure but for now he was thankful for the cooperation. Well, he wasn't about to ask Marcel to undo all of his warding work so that left the window. Experimentally Harry opened it and stuck his head out. There was a small ledge running the length of the building. Wide enough to walk along if they stayed close to the wall and used the bricks to hold themselves there. They could easily make it along if they were careful. They could try to get into someone else's window, assuming they were sleep which at this time of night they might be or at least out feeding if they weren't human, and try to get out from another direction hoping that bought them some time. Or they could do something absolutely crazy.

"Do you reckon we could make that jump?" He inquired.

Marcel stuck his head out as well. From his taller vantage he could probably guess better than Harry. "From the corner ledge to that shoppe just there? Aiming for the roof?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Alright. It's still dark enough if we hurry we should be able to do this relatively unseen. There's a window over there we can try to get in through and sneak out of the shoppe before it opens or we can cross over to the other side and jump over to a lower building and maybe jump to the ground. Well we can figure that out then. Let's go." As if finding nothing at daunting about running from the authorities or leaping from buildings Marcel climbed onto the window sill without another word. Humming a tune the doll-like dark creature began edging along the ledge just like that. Harry didn't know it was because Marcel simply did not fear such mundane things as falling to one's death or a criminal record or if he perhaps already had one. Probably best not to ask.

He turned to Malfoy. The blonde stood there with an unreadable expression on his face, the complaining and dramatics from before long gone. His silver eyes flicked over him once. He gave a nod. "Go on then." The Slytherin said.

Not knowing what to say or if he should say anything, Harry nodded and climbed onto the window sill. Deciding you're going to climb out a building and then jump is one thing. Actually climbing out of that window and scooting along a ledge forty feet in the air is something else entirely. Most especially when it's still dark out and you're staring down into a black nothingness you know for a fact ends with a street. A very, very firm and hard cobblestone street. Perfect for breaking every bone in your... Oh Merlin. Harry moaned and shut his eyes. He'd never been afraid of heights before. To be fair he was usually focus more on catching th snitch than on how close to death he was. There was that time last year when he dangled from his broom for a bit but he was still more worried about losing to Slytherin than falling to his doom. There were no cheering crowds now. No golden snitch. Just a long way down.

To his left he heard Draco snicker. "Come on now cousin it's not so bad. Maybe we'll be like Longbottom and we'll bounce!"

"That is not funny." Harry hissed.

Marcel glanced over at them, frowning. "It'll be alright Arison. Believe it or not this isn't the strangest thing to ever happen to me. Keeping coming this way and don't look down. I won't let anything happen to you, our older brother's will kill me if I do." He choked. Marcel thought Tom was his brother? Well Harry supposed they did look something alike. Focusing his thoughts on the young Dark Lord as the less frightening option Harry made his way along the ledge, inch by inch.

Feeling a warmth to his side he looked up to see Marcel. "Turn slowly, keep a firm grip on the bricks behind you alright kid?" Harry gave a rather unconfident nod of understanding. "We're aiming for the roof of that building there but focus on the middle rather than the ledge. It's better to jump too far than not far enough you know? Let your knees bend, throw your weight forward and roll. I'll be there waiting for you and your friend." The older teen leaped from the building without so much as a by-your-leave, flying through the air.

Precisely then a bang came in the night followed by a crash and some cursing. Down the other end two heads were sticking out of their window. _"There I see them!"_

Draco turned and gave Harry a shove. "Time to jump."

_"Quickly they're trapped."_

"I...I can't." Harry was petrified, clutching at the wall for all he was worth. A hand gave his hand a squeeze. Harry opened his eyes to Draco holding his hand. The blonde gave him a reassuring smile. Considering flashes from spellwork was emitting from their window it was surprising the Slytherin was so calm. How could he be so calm? Didn't he understand they might die, they might get caught.

_"Stay right there brats. Come lets get bring them to-"_

Draco reached out with his other hand and held Harry's face toward him. "We'll jump together okay? I'll jump with you. Just look at me, no where else. Nothing else exists." Harry nodded, too busy hyperventilating to answer. He knew he was shaking but he couldn't stop. He couldn't. But Draco was so still and composed. What happened to the whining boy from earlier? How was he being so brave?

"On three Harry. One." Started Draco. He squeezed Harry's hand once more.

The smaller boy took in several quick breaths. If Draco, whom Harry knew was frightened of the dark, could be calm right now and brave than so could Harry. He was a Gryffindor after all. He could do this. It would be okay. He trusted Draco. "T-two." He continued.

They turned from the wall, still gripping one another's hand. It was brighter now, a little lighter. The sun would rise soon. Harry could make out a moving shadow along the rooftop opposite them he assumed was Marcel. Well it was either be caught or make a jump for it and Tom would never let him out of his sight again if Harry got himself caught. He didn't even want to think about the argument there would be over Quidditch when the next term began in September.

_"Stop! Stop right there!"_

"Three." Shouted Draco.

They pushed off the building and jumped. It was at times such as this that the world decided it wanted to slow down and prolong your anxiety. Flying through the air took far too long. It was a wonder the people in the shoppes below didn't wake from the sound of his heart banging against his chest. They neared the roof just when Harry had begun to think it was all an awful nightmare that wouldn't ever end. He attempted to pull off a graceful dive and roll as Marcel had done. Instead Harry and Draco ended up in a tangled heap. As it was a heap on the roof and not a mangled heap on the ground harry counted it as a win. For a moment they lay there, intertwined, breathing harshly. The men at the other building were still yelling from the window. Harry couldn't be bothered listening to what they were saying. If they wanted to catch him and Marcel that bad they could jumped off the building after them. Harry wasn't going to wait and he certainly had no intention of going back as once voice seemed to suggest. Draco snorted, no doubt feeling the same way.

Though the sun was getting ready to rise it was still hard to see in the patches of darkness between the light of the street lanterns below. Harry climbed to his feet, Draco following his lead. They needed to find a way down and a place to hide. Hopefully Marcel would know where Elia would be as that was Harry's best guess for Tom's location. Speaking of the dark creature. "Marcel?" No answer.

It was far too creepy for Harry's liking. If the older boy was pulling a prank on them Harry was going to strangle him. This was so not the time or place. Marcel's dark hair would blend in easily. While that was helping if they were all hiding Harry needed to find the blasted boy so they could leave before those wizards used their brains and thought to grab brooms. Harry walked further into the shadows. Behind him he heard Draco mutter a _Lumos._ Dim light emitted from the blonde's wand, lighting the roof just enough to see. Draco grabbed his arm suddenly. Harry rolled his eyes and tried not to growl. He wasn't in the mood for everyone's games.

"Not now I'm looking for-" Draco yanked on him hard. _"What?"_ Harry snapped. When Draco didn't answer Harry turned around. There stood Marcel. Along with him stood another wizard dressed all in black holding the teen against his chest, a wand against Marcel's throat. It wasn't the wand Harry had his eyes on however. It was the wizard holding it. Long lank hair in tired, dirty curls, high cheeks bones and sharp gray eyes rimmed in darkened circles. He obviously hadn't slept well in a long time.

"That's, that's Sirius Black." Whispered Draco, clutching his hand.

The wizard in question opened his chapped lips, exposed surprisingly white teeth, and grinned.

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**Pseudonymous Entity**

**2015**

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**Notes:** No Beta. All mistakes mine.


	34. An Alliance of Convenience

**CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW**

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**Summary:** Harry let Ginny die.

**Characters: Tom Riddle, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Sirius Black, OCs**

**Warnings: **I give up at this point. Lets see what's most important; Torture. Racism. Physical Violence. Manipulation. Back stabbing, in every possible way. Innuendo. Snark. Madness.

**AN: **I feel as if I am constantly apologizing for taking so long to update. I am really trying I promise, I just have to take inconvenient flights back to RL now and then to take care of things. You know, like electricity or food. Or rent. Unfortunately I can't make all of that go away. Sometimes I even sleep! I am trying my best to get my research done and outline the chapters ahead of time and fill them in whenever I have the time. Try to remember I'm juggling nine stories or ten stories at a time. Bare with me alright guys? I won't forget you I promise, just try to be a little patient for me, okay? I'm doing my best. I really want to get them to you.

**-Pseu**

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_"Never hate your enemy, it clouds your judgment."_

**-Don Corleone.**

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Well damn.

Harry stomped his foot and let out several curses he'd heard Uncle Vernon use on occasion. As the lot of it was in parseltongue, and he still wore the snake mask, this made for a rather intimidating scene. He paced back and forth, let out a huff and turned back to the situation at hand.

Doing some quick thinking Harry returned a grin to the the infamous mass murderer. Though the man couldn't see it. Harry had dirt on his clothes from tumbling along the roof top, cuts in his tunic and glass in his hair. He had officials coming after him and a teen Dark Lord to find.

In short he didn't have time for this.

"Mister Black how lovely to see you. Unfortunately I regret to inform you if the lot of us do not vacate the premises _directly_ I fear we shall find ourselves in Azkaban. We could have a less rushed conversation there, actually. But I don't much fancy the look I'll get from my uncles after they've broken me back out." Harry paused then gestured at Malfoy. "And this one wouldn't last ten minutes in Azkaban anyway."

Before Draco could be too offended the criminal wizard barked out a laugh. He pulled the wand back from Marcel's throat, much to everyone's relief, and tossed it back to him. "Malfoy's are a prissy lot aren't they?" Black grinned.

Harry nodded. "Verily."

"If you're _quite _done bonding over insulting my family we need to go." Draco huffed, picking at nonexistent fluff on his tunic. Harry rolled his eyes.

"This way delinquents." The criminal called merrily. The man was jogging to the other end of the building. His footsteps faint against the top of the roof.

He appeared to be used to moving lightly. Well, a criminal would be, wouldn't he? It really said something that they all followed the former Death Eater without question. The man indicated a drainage pipe. It was rusty and melancholy and even suicidal in appearance. Did wizards magically reinforce these things? He really hoped so.

"If we go down this we'll get to the next floor below us. We can go in through that window there. That's how I got up here at any rate. No one seems to be home."

Marcel and Draco had a silent conversation. Marcel leaned forward and whispered to the blonde, handing him something and then Marcel was climbing down the pipe. His hands and boots made quick work of it. Harry glanced over his shoulder at the Leaky Cauldron. There weren't any more lights flashing. He didn't know if that was good sign or not. There were lights in the rooms coming. People were waking up. There time was running out. Harry watched his friend. The blonde nodded at him, took a breath and stepped closer to the escaped convict.

Draco pointed to Black. "You're going last. We don't much care if you get caught."

"And if _I_ care?" The convict crossed his arms and raised a brow.

Draco lifted his chin and affected a sweet, panicky voice. "Father, it was horrible, Sirius Black kidnapped me and my friends. It's quite lucky I thought to show you the memory in a pensive. It's also quite lucky I thought to get one of these," He held up to fingers, between which lay a long curly dark hair. "so you can do a locater spell. Mother being a fellow Black really does come in handy doesn't it?"

Black lunged for it. Draco danced backward, and far more gracefully than anyone should be able to, swung down to begin climbing down the pipe. Black stood there incredulously.

Harry laughed.

And laughed.

He was lucky he had such quick thinking friends. How he'd managed to survive this long without them was a mystery to him. His luck allotment must be freaking phenomenal.

The criminal cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. "Aren't you afraid to be here alone with me? Come to think of it, they seem protective of you, why did they you here with a mass murdering psycho or whatever it is they're calling me?"

Harry scoffed. "You're not my first murderer."

Black's eyebrows shot up. After several moments of silence, in which the criminal gave Harry a calculating once-over, the man pointed down the pipe. "I suppose he's not so bad."

Harry shrugged. "Draco has his moments."

_"I heard that!"_

"Aw hell I better go before I get another lecture on how horrid I am to my First Companion." Harry grimaced. He stepped toward the pipe and began to climb down. It was rather a lot like the drainage pipes around where he lived with the Dursleys, if not as well kept. Of course he'd never climbed down one. It was usually up in an effort to get away from Aunt Marge's dogs, and he'd never had the authorities after him while he was at it. Or ever really. About halfway down the pipe gave an unsettling grinding sound. Emitted a squeak. Then lurched to the side.

Harry had just enough time to register it was breaking from their weight before he was falling. A moment later he was caught by to sets of arms. Looking up he saw Draco and Marcel having another staring contest. He wasn't sure what their problem with one another was but he didn't have time to figure it out right then.

Black jumped from the roof landing with a dull thud. "This way."

They crawled through the window as quickly as they could manage. Once they were all inside Black shut the window, the criminal and Marcel warding it after. Black led the way through the flat to the stairs and into the shoppe below. They entered quietly, crouched by the staircase. Luckily there was no one here either. That wouldn't last long however. As they were in the premier family shopping district in Britain they needed to find somewhere_ else _to be immediately.

Marcel shoved Black forward indicating he was to go out first. The man seemed more amused than offended or threatened. He was an escaped mass murderer though so Harry supposed three children, magical or no, even if one was less than human, weren't much to frighten the man. But then, the man didn't know them yet.

Harry grinned beneath his mask.

Out in the alley it was apparent the sun was rising at an alarming rate. Marcel took Harry's hand and sprinted down the street. Draco and their newly acquired criminal following behind.

They were lead down the street and into a side alley. One Harry hadn't explored yet. Marcel tugged him over a precarious stack of crates, jumped off the other side into another alley. The crates high enough to get over the fence,and toward another parking lot.

Harry seriously though about turning back and just turning himself in.

"Whats with you and cars?" He whined.

Marcel smacked the side of a truck, opened it, slid in and kicked open the passenger door. "They're wonderfully unlikely."

Harry grumbled and climbed in. That left Black and Draco to perch in the back end, which the blonde did not seemed pleased with. Marcel out his hand flat against the dash, a light flared and the engine revved. A quick adjustment to the rear-view mirror and the truck was moving. "Hold on." He called.

Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw Draco did not need that warning. He was already holding on for dear life. Harry, who'd ridden with Marcel already, couldn't blame him. He rapped on the back window and pulled it open.

"Black he means it." Harry warned.

The criminal blinked and held on to the side just as Marcel lay the gas pedal against the floor. The truck shot backward swinging in an arc, sliding to a stop inches away from the wall of the next building. Marcel revved the engine mockingly. They shot down the street.

Harry snickered at Black and turned back around, fastening his seatbelt. Now to find Elia and Tom before anything else happened. That wasn't too much to ask was it?

Yes. Yes it was.

Several green robed wizards dropped from the sky on brooms, leveling their wands at the truck, flying backward in front of it. Who the Hell flew backward in front of a truck let alone one driven by Marcel? Why were they trying so hard to get them? He didn't understand. Their hoods flew back and Harry recognized one of them. The man who hit Elia. A thud on the roof, followed by a whoop heralded the arrival of the Calvary in the form of Black and Draco climbing over the truck onto the hood. They started waving their wands.

Harry stared at them wide eyed.

What did they think they were doing!?

Draco held up the shield while Black shot spells in response to their attackers. Marcel all the while driving like a maniac to lose them without losing their passengers. He darted left through a low overhang. Harry heard shrieks and an ominous crack. He didn't look back to see what happened. The truck spluttered and wheezed and made altogether the least reassuring sounds a truck could make. Marcel skidded to stop.

Black and Draco slid off the truck and tumbled to the ground.

Harry was out at once and at their sides. He glanced Draco over worriedly then spared a look for the criminal. He did try to help them after all. "Are you alright?"

"That was_ awesome_." Black crowed.

Draco flopped on his back. He covered his face with a shaking arm. His wand trembled in his hand. "My father must not hear of this. Ever."

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**Pseudonymous Entity**

**2015**

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**Notes:**

Theories, Questions, Comments, Ideas, Guesses and Limericks welcomed.

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**AN:** Chapter edited APR 2016.


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